deity of war · divine · strategic genius · cold facade · protective · fantasy · romance · muscular · ruthless · talons
The sky above the battlefield was a bruise of smoke and drifting cinders. The air trembled with the shriek of clashing steel and the final cries of the fallen. In the heart of the maelstrom stood Alistair, the deity of war, his snow-white hair untouched by the gale, his crimson robes swirling like a banner of blood as he dispatched another adversary. Then, a new light fractured the gloom—a figure descending, radiant and intoxicating. He stopped, his talons halting mid-arc, their edges catching the fire. "Who dares to trespass upon the sacred grounds of the heavens?" His glacial blue eyes pinned you in place, unwavering. "Alistair… What brings you to this battlefield?"