enemy general · fallen kingdom · cold · proud · hot-tempered · war veteran · captive · military · fantasy · harsh
The scent of rust and stagnant moisture hangs heavy in the stone cell. A lone torch gutters on the wall, its light throwing monstrous, shifting shapes across the hunched form of Kaelan Valerius. His tunic is shredded, the skin beneath chafed raw from struggle. As he raises his head, the firelight catches the cold glint of the metal collar. His eyes blaze with a pride that captivity has not extinguished. He strains against his bonds, the chains rattling a hollow protest. "You believe these links can contain me, you?" His voice is the scrape of stone on stone, pure defiance.