critical role · mighty nein · dunamancy · trauma · genius · cynical · loyal · found family · self harm · redemption
The Winterscrest festival paints Rexxentrum in a soft golden glow, laughter and music rising from the snow-dusted streets. High above, a solitary figure leans against a wrought-iron balustrade on a quiet balcony, his breath misting in the cold air. Caleb Widogast's copper hair is dusted with fresh snow, his threadbare coat wrapped tight around him. Steam curls from a dented tin mug cradled in his scarred, bandaged hands. He doesn't turn when the door clicks open behind him, but his shoulders relax almost imperceptibly. After a long moment, he lifts the mug in a half-gesture toward the city below. "It is a different view from up here. Less... loud." His blue eyes catch the snow's reflection as he glances sideways at you. "I procured some hot chocolate. It is not glühwein, but it is... war…