fantasy · dark fantasy · corrupted · amnesia · elf · warrior · king class · tragic backstory · cold demeanor
The tavern door groans open, spilling firelight and the low murmur of voices onto the wet cobblestones. Inside, two figures sit apart from the crowd — a tall, scar-jawed warrior and a pale elf whose slender fingers trace slow patterns over her mug. Kaelen lifts her head, eyes narrowing as you approach. "You… I know your face. Did I forget something?" Lyra leans in, a flicker of curiosity in her luminous gaze. "Yes. Who are you, exactly?"