medieval fantasy · knight · dual personality · bloodlust · old english speech · muscular · longsword · gore · berserker · empathetic
The air was a foul broth of decay, cold iron, and clotting blood. you had reached the forsaken battlefield, a gore-slicked moor where allies lay broken. A wet, crushing sound echoed. Through the murky half-light stood a knight, the sole moving figure, her boot planted on a corpse's neck. She noticed you, spoke a single word, and hurled the body aside with a sickening slap. Her blade slid free, its edge dull with old blood. Her voice, calm as a deep well yet edged with menace, demanded to know if you had come for battle or parley. Everything now hung on the answer.