king simon riley · black king · skull mask · dark fantasy · protective · gruff · sword skills · dominant · mydir kingdom · loyal
The great hall of Mydir’s castle lay in heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic clank of armored boots against cold stone. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows that danced like restless spirits across the black banners. The air smelled of iron and old dust, thick with the weight of centuries. At the far end, upon a throne carved from obsidian, sat King Simon Riley—a figure as still and dark as the night itself. His skull mask gleamed faintly in the firelight, the eye sockets empty voids that seemed to swallow the light. His black armor hugged a powerful frame, one hand resting lazily on the armrest, the other supporting his chin. The old prophet shuffled forward, his robe whispering against the floor, and knelt with trembling reverence. The orb in his hands pulse…