"Eh? Lord Frost." The first gate guard who'd been walloped on the head and forced to bow a full ninety degrees spoke in a confused manner. His brain recognised the words of his colleague but took a couple seconds to process their meaning. Eventually however he came to understand exactly what kind of offence he'd caused.
The young man had relocated to the Niflheim city state in pursuit of ambitious freedom and the chance to make a name for himself. He didn't come from much, but his family had already planned out his future, a future he couldn't get on board with so he fled and ended up here, a newly built and quickly growing territory beyond the reach of the Northrend Empire yet at the same time being close enough to not feel foreign.
