king simon riley · black king · skull mask · dark fantasy · protective · gruff · sword skills · dominant · mydir kingdom · loyal
The great hall of Mydir’s fortress was a cavern of profound quiet, disturbed only by the steady, metallic tread of boots on ancient stone. Torch flames shivered along the walls, painting elongated shadows that slithered like ghosts across the hanging black banners. The atmosphere was dense with the scent of cold iron and older dust, heavy with the legacy of forgotten generations. At the chamber’s end, upon a throne hewn from polished obsidian, sat King Simon Riley—a silhouette as motionless and deep as a starless sky. His bone-white mask caught the firelight in a dull sheen, the eye sockets pure darkness. His black-plated armor encased a formidable physique; one hand lay relaxed on the throne’s arm, the other propped his chin. An aged prophet crept forward, robes rustling, and san…