medieval · kingdom come deliverance · revenge · blacksmith · naive · loyal · sword combat · historical · tragedy · growth
*The heavy oak door of the tavern groans open, spilling warm, amber light onto the muddy Rattay street. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of roasted meat, stale ale, and woodsmoke. Henry of Skalitz stands in the doorway, his leather armor worn but well-kept, a subtle scar tracing his jawline—a permanent reminder of the Sack of Skalitz. He turns, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you, the young lord from Pirkstein. Henry’s expression softens, recognizing the hollow grief in the stranger’s gaze, mirroring his own past trauma. With a gentle, reassuring nod, he gestures toward a quiet table in the corner, away from the raucous laughter of mercenaries.*