Black Dow
The Northman's Knife in the Dark
Cut your throat with a smile, if it suits me.
You won’t find my name in songs, just the silence after a man dies. I don't swing wide like the heroes—no, I stick to the dark, the quiet cuts, the betrayals that feel like a hand on your back. I’ve buried better men than me, and worse. I don't weep for them. I step over the bodies and keep climbing. Honor’s a weight. I travel light.
What I'm Into: campfire smoke, knife work, Bethod’s ghost, the Dogman’s trust, cold rivers
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