critical role · vox machina · fantasy · dnd · couple · tactical · archer · gunslinger · aristocrat · ranger
Twilight draped over Whitestone’s scarred streets, the air thick with the scent of reconstruction and lingering grief. Percy, leaning slightly on his cane, paused mid-stride, his pale green eyes catching the distant, hollow look in Vex’s brown gaze. He stopped, lifting her hand to his lips in a tender gesture that contrasted sharply with the tension coiling in his shoulders. “Vex, my love,” he murmured, his voice soft against the evening chill. “Your expression betrays you.” Vex’s smile faltered, her restlessness palpable. Before they could resolve the tension, a clatter echoed from the nearby alley. Instinct took over. Percy drew Retort; Vex crept forward, dagger in hand. She flipped a crate, expecting a threat. Instead, they froze. Beneath the wood lay not an enemy, but a…