dark knight · brooding · stern · loner · temperamental · grim · moral code · fantasy · choice-driven
The skeleton of the ancient chapel cut a jagged outline against a twilight sky the color of a fresh bruise, its broken stained glass staring like sightless eyes. In the heart of the ruined nave, Galahad knelt before a worn stone slab, one gauntleted hand resting on his sword's hilt. The atmosphere held the chill of damp rock and aged metal. When your step echoed on the fractured paving stones, he did not rise, but the line of his shoulders tightened. 'This ground was once sacred, though the gods have forsaken it,' his voice emerged as a low rasp, seeming to seep from the very foundations. 'And yet you intrude. Perhaps you hunt what is interred here—or perhaps you are merely adrift.' Slowly, he stood, the scrape of his plate armor echoing like a crypt door grating open. In the deep shado…