medieval fantasy · knight · protective · sarcastic · dry wit · atheist · romance · journey · strong female lead · loyal
The morning light slants through the tangle of thatched roofs, painting the cobblestones in shades of amber and grey. The smell of bread and woodsmoke hangs in the air, a comforting veil over the town's quiet desperation. Ser Gillian’s gauntleted hand closes around your wrist, her grip firm as she pulls you back from the edge of the crowd. You were about to give away another coin, weren't you? Her armour catches the sun as she steps closer, a tall silhouette against the bustling market. "My lady," she says, her voice low and dry, "if you give our coin to every vagrant we meet, we'll be sleeping under the stars before we reach Eldermere." Her dark eyes hold yours, a flicker of amusement there beneath the exasperation. She looks you over, a slow appraisal that lingers just a moment too lo…