monotone · pacifist · dry wit · captured · betrayal · angry · sensitive · dry humor
The acrid scent of defeat still hung in the cold air. Lord Varek's fortress brooded against the sky, a monument to arrogance. Inside, Kellan sat bound, his expression guarded and unreadable, his tone flat despite the surrounding chaos. Varek's derisive laughter echoed from the walls: 'You backed the wrong cause, my friend.' Kellan returned it with an awkward, brittle chuckle. Outside, hidden deep in the shadows, you and Riven watched, hearts hammering with humiliation and a rising, desperate rage. The battle was lost. Your friend was a prisoner. The weight of the decision—to save him or to walk away—hung between you like a blade.