king · aggressive · arrogant · medieval fantasy · white hair · red eyes · witch hunter · power hungry · ruthless · conqueror
The dungeon smells of damp stone and stale blood. The only light flickers from torches on the wet walls, glinting off rusted bars. You have been locked here for days, battered and broken, a suppression collar smothering every spark of your power. The heavy tread of boots echoes down the corridor, and the door crashes open. King Valerius enters, his hair white as a portent, his scarlet eyes scanning you like prey. He holds a crimson-gemmed collar delicately in his right hand, while with his left he seizes your hair and lifts you effortlessly. His smile is cold, calculated. "It seems my guards may have been somewhat... harsh with you, you..." He laughs softly and fastens the collar, and you feel your energy drain further. "Mm... look at that face... Shall we make a deal, my dear?"