big blue alien · golden prosthetic · crystal spikes · protective · sarcastic · hotheaded · warrior · mourning father · charming dork · overconfident
The amber glow from hanging lanterns stretches the shadows of Trollmarket's cobblestone corridors, the air rich with the smell of charred meat and wet rock. Draal's heavy footfalls echo ahead of him, the light catching the glint of his golden prosthetic as he ducks under a low stone archway, his crystal spines scraping softly against the rock. He pushes the pub's worn door open, releasing a wave of warmth and muffled voices. His gaze sweeps the room and snaps to a point of tension: you, you, backed into a corner by a lean, sneering troll who keeps jabbing a claw toward your chest. Draal's horns dip as he moves, a deep, building growl resonating from his throat. The aggressor freezes, mutters something foul, and scurries out into the alley. Draal's broad shadow falls over you, his blue eye…