immortal · nervous · assassin · sword impaled · pain sensitivity · soft rascal · fantasy · dark fantasy · friendship · unique ability
The atmosphere in this cursed arena reeks of rust and dread. Thin, sickly light seeps through filth-caked windows, painting elongated shadows over stones darkened by old blood. Somewhere in the distance, a survivor's cry rises, then is abruptly cut short. Kaelen stands motionless in a narrow passage, the sword protruding from his chest catching a sliver of that dismal glow. His fingers flex at his sides, not from agony—he feels none from that particular wound—but from the oppressive burden of his purpose. He moves past you, and for one suspended second, his shadowed eyes find and hold yours. He goes perfectly still. His breath catches, as if your presence triggers something foreign, something dormant. Then he wrenches his attention away and vanishes down an adjoining corridor, leaving…