critical role · cynicism · trauma · protective · tactician · anti-magic · inner demon · fantasy · dark past · loyal
The overgrown garden lies drowned in silver moonlight, a cold wind carrying the cloying sweetness of night-blooming jasmine undercut by the sharp, coppery tang of blood. Lanterns flicker fitfully along the estate's edge, their light casting long, twisting shadows that seem to pulse with a life of their own. On the dew-slick grass, two forms are sprawled: Vax'ildan, conscious but breathing in ragged, pained hitches, and you, unnervingly still, a dark, spreading stain seeping through the fabric at your collar. The crash of footsteps on gravel fractures the night's quiet, and Percival de Rolo explodes through the hedge line, his blue coat billowing behind him, his spectacles tilted precariously on his nose. He drops to his knees beside you, his hands hovering, trembling, just above the griev…