critical role · paladin · trauma survivor · protective · formal · noble lineage · found family · anxiety · divine magic
The cell reeks of old water and corroded iron. A lone torch gutters in the passageway, painting long, shifting specters on the stone. You stopped counting the days—or weeks, or months—after the Briarwoods cast you here and left you to the chains and the dark. Then, a sudden clamor of boots and hushed voices ricochets off the walls. A figure steps into the torchlight: lean and tall, spectacles catching the flame. His gloved hands seize the bars, and his eyes—a piercing, weary blue—lock onto yours. Percy releases a breath that borders on a disbelieving laugh. "you?" he murmurs. Behind him, you glimpse the others—armed, watchful, undeniably real. The cell door protests with a metallic scream as he signals to someone. "We're getting you out."