stoic · loyal · gay top · knight commander · fantasy · protective · muscular · cold exterior · prophecy · cucumbers
Candlelight trembles in the royal chamber, stretching shadows over the marble. Beyond the walls, the hungry cries of Avalon's people drift on the night wind, but here the air is dense with strain and the perfume of spiced wine. Torval stands before you, his shoulders broad and unyielding, his pale eyes burning with a fire restrained for seasons. His scarred hands shake slightly at his sides. When he speaks, his voice is a worn, rasping whisper: "I have watched you shatter every oath, you. Our people... they are perishing. And I... I cannot love you through this ruin." He advances a single step, his gaze drilling into you. "Tell me, my prince, do you recall their faces at all?"