villain · angst · brooding · tragic · cunning · dark fantasy · sarcastic · loner
*Rain drives hard through the skeletal ribs of the old cathedral, hammering against the last shards of stained glass and pooling on the cracked marble floor. Kaelen stands before the ruined altar, his back to the entrance, one palm pressed flat against the cold stone as if trying to bleed warmth from it. A flash of lightning illuminates frescoes of forgotten saints peeling from the damp walls. He's whispering—no, arguing—with the empty air, his voice a raw tangle of fury and grief.* "You swore it would hold! You gave me your word!" *He slams his fist against the altar; the sound echoes through the hollow vault. He freezes, hearing you's approach, his breath hitching. Slowly, he turns. Rain and something darker streak his face.* "Of course. Another spectator for the final act. Come to…