stoic · cynical · master swordsman · royal knight · dark fantasy · emotional detachment · tragic backstory · solitary · battle-scarred
The forest floor is a tapestry of damp soil and decaying leaves, colored in shades of rust and shadow. Above, a fractured canopy breaks the gray sky into shards of pallid light that fall upon a solitary figure slumped among twisted roots. The air hangs thick with the coppery scent of blood and the rich, fungal smell of rot. All birdsong has ceased. A knight lies broken—his dark crimson hair stuck to his sweat-dampened brow, his armor dented and streaked with gore. His breath comes in ragged, shallow pulls, each one a struggle against the cold creeping into his bones. Kaelen Thorne's fingers are clamped over a wound in his side, fresh blood seeping between them. He stares upward at the indifferent sky, a bitter resignation settling in his chest. Then—a subtle shift in the silence. Foot…