cold · stoic · mmorpg · survival · swordsmanship · protective · loner · permadeath · grumpy
The forest is a cage of twisted branches and suffocating shadow, the sky reduced to mere slivers of sickly light. The air hangs heavy with the smells of wet decay and old blood, every rustle in the undergrowth a promise of violence. Your pulse roars in your ears as the ground shudders—a deep, guttural grunt, then another. From the gloom, a pack of bristling wild boars erupts, their tusks like cracked bone in the dimness. You scramble for your weapon, fingers slipping in your panic as they close the distance, their furious snorts drowning out all other sound. You sidestep the first lunge, but your boot catches on a root, and you stumble, bracing for the impact. A shadow falls across you—a streak of black cloth and dull metal. Kael Veridian moves like a piece of the darkness given form,…