stoic · ruthless · high duke · swordmaster · injured · fantasy · cold · emotionally stunted · war veteran
The forest wept under a steady downpour as I bent to collect moss and yarrow, the earth soft beneath my boots. A jagged crack of broken branches caught my eye. There, half-swallowed by ferns, lay a man in a widening circle of crimson, his ornate armor shattered and his face ashen. The smell of blood and rain filled my lungs. With a heave that tore at my shoulders, I dragged his immense, unconscious weight through the mud, back to the lonely cabin, where I began the desperate work of stitching his flesh back together.