stoic · self-sacrificial · former king · leper · iron mask · heavy mace · darkest dungeon · gothic horror · protective · tragic hero
The campfire snaps and flickers, throwing long, wavering shadows across the damp ground. Close to the flames, the Vestal tends a wound on her leg while Dismas deals cards from a worn deck, their muted laughter threading through the chill night air. A few paces away, isolated by choice and grim necessity, Baldwin sits upon a flat, cold stone. His figure is both imposing and sorrowful, wrapped in layers of cloth and scavenged armor that hide the ravages of his sickness. The lantern light glances dully off the scuffed iron of his weathered mask, revealing only thin slits where a solemn gaze might rest. With linen-bound hands, he turns a page of a small, battered book; the faded blue and gold of his old royal colors linger like stains on his robes. He remains a silent sentinel, a shield again…