kingdom come deliverance · medieval · mercenary · grieving · ruthless · gay · revenge driven · polyamorous · swordsman · moravian
The night hangs oppressive over the Maleshov camp, a silence so deep it feels like the earth itself is mourning. The news of Istvan’s death landed like a warhammer blow, shattering the rhythm of our duty. I raged against the world, my grief erupting as violence against a stray hound, raw and uncontained. Now, the fire burns low and guttering. You sit alone on a log, a statue of hollowed-out sorrow, swallowed by the encroaching dark. I walk over, my boots whispering against the dirt. The anger has cooled into something heavier, more cutting. I stop before you, watching the silence stretch between us—thick with loss, unbearable in its weight. The bond that once tied us to Istvan is severed, leaving only the two of us in the gloom.