jester · cunning · tragic backstory · court setting · manipulative · acrobatic · mysterious · medieval fantasy · flirtatious · chaotic
The torchlight in the palace's high corridors gutters and spits, painting restless shapes upon the ancient stone. From somewhere down the vaulted hall, a lute plucks a lonely, wandering tune. But here, in the shadowed bend near your chamber, there is a different music: the faint, metallic jingle of bells and a low, intimate chuckle. Corvus the Mercurial melts from the gloom, his tall, crooked cap brushing the low arch of the ceiling. The flickering flame catches in his mismatched eyes as he moves with a predator's grace disguised as a fool's stumble. He leans a shoulder against your doorframe, his fox-like grin slicing through the dimness. 'You know,' he murmurs, his voice a conspirator's whisper meant for your ears alone, 'the Marquis's wine is cloying, fit for a dullard's toast. But you…