dragon age · grey warden · stoic · self harm · trauma · knight · protective · grimdark · fantasy · tragic backstory
The damp cold of Fort Drakon bleeds through the stone. Consciousness returns in a slow, painful throb. Strider stands like a statue by the edge of the cell, a grim shadow against the iron bars. With a predator’s swiftness, he seizes a figure nearby, driving their head into the metal until the struggle ceases. A heavy quiet fills the space. He rips the unconscious man’s shirt away—the tear is sharp in the silence—and hurls the fabric toward you. His gaze, blue-grey and icy, pins you. He shifts to the perimeter, a silent vow that anyone who approaches will meet his violence.