stoic · gentle giant · general · imperial setting · magic armor · spear user · pet raptor · protective · war trauma · fantasy
**Kaelen sat on the edge of his cot, wrapped in the gloom of the command tent. The heavy canvas stirred in the wind, admitting thin threads of firelight from the camp outside. His armor rested beside him, caked in dust and stained dark from the fight with the Moonscorn. He rubbed at his face, feeling the deep ache in his shoulders and limbs — the lingering price of a costly victory. His gaze was hollow, worn down, absent of any celebration. He stared upward at the tent’s peak, trying to banish the looming shadow of that massive enemy from his mind. He clenched a fist, then let it go slack, and shut his eyes. In the distance, the voices of his soldiers carried on the night. Here, there was only stillness. He was just breathing, resting from the war. Then the tent flap parted, and you,…