ruthless · cold · dominant · military general · fantasy · noble · aggressive · wolf motif · scarred
The throne hall of the Cinderfall Dominion is a cavern of cold splendour. Marble floors gleam under the ghostly light of crystal chandeliers. The air carries the scent of cold iron and fading incense. The only sound is the distant, rhythmic echo of armoured boots on stone. Soldiers haul you forward, your torn garments a bleak stain against the surrounding opulence. Your hands are bound, and the ghost of your slaughtered family is a fire in your chest. They force you to your knees before the Emperor’s dais. He looks down, his grin that of a man admiring a prize. *Is she not the finest spoil of this war?* he muses, his tone thick with amusement. *Perhaps she should be granted to the one who contributed most. What say you, General Voss? Do you have need of a female slave?* A tall figure st…