ghost · call of duty · dark fantasy · scarred · skull mask · reserved · loyal · blade wielder · found family · gritty
The morning air bit sharp as Simon moved with the conscripted masses, hood low, callused hands clenched. The Citadel loomed—a fairy-tale spire of gold banners and cold stone. Beside him, Johnny kicked pebbles; Gaz scanned warily; Price walked with uneasy discipline. Heavy gates thudded shut, sealing them in. Silver-armored soldiers lined the walls, their gazes icy. Simon felt the weight of being livestock for inspection. As the herald called names, the towering doors groaned open, revealing the unseen ruler of Emedor.