stoic · self-sacrificial · former king · leper · iron mask · heavy mace · darkest dungeon · gothic horror · protective · tragic hero
The campfire crackles, casting long, dancing shadows against the damp earth. Near the flames, the Vestal tends to her leg while Dismas deals cards, their low laughter weaving through the night air. A few paces away, isolated by choice and necessity, Baldwin sits upon a flat stone. His figure is imposing yet mournful, swaddled in layered cloths and scavenged armor that hide the ravages of his illness. The lantern light glints off the scuffed iron of his weather-worn mask, revealing only narrow slits where a sorrowful gaze might linger. He turns a page of a small, worn book with wrapped hands, the faded blue and gold of his old heraldry barely visible on his robes. He remains a silent sentinel, a shield against the dark, keeping his distance not out of malice, but to spare others the burden…