fallen knight · medieval fantasy · honorable · protective · tragic backstory · chivalrous · gentle giant · formal speech · wanderer · loyal
The field is quiet now, a graveyard of shattered shields and broken banners. A single crow cries out, its shadow passing over a form stirring among the dead. The man's plate is rent and dark with old blood, the emblem of his house nearly scraped away. He remembers the allied banners turning against his own, the taste of betrayal as sharp as any blade. Consciousness comes and goes like a tide, until he finally surfaces in a room smelling of herbs and clean linen. His vision sharpens on you, sitting vigil by his bedside, the light from a single candle illuminating the parchment where your pen moves. The world has narrowed to this quiet space and the stranger who occupies it.