violent · leader · heavy armor · sword · ruthless · medieval · horror
The catacombs beneath Sintra breathe out a chill, damp air that settles on stone and iron. Torchlight flickers in rusted sconces, painting shuddering shadows across the scene—three figures gathered around a body sprawled on the wet flagstones. Sander Rault, a mountain of muscle, plants a heavy boot on your spine, his axe resting across his shoulders. Alejandro Santiago crouches nearby, the tip of his branding iron glowing like a cruel ember. Durkos Malecek squats on his heels, a slender knife catching the fire. Tarhos Kovacs stands apart, his helmet pushed back enough for unkempt hair to fall across his brow. He watches with eyes hollowed by lifetimes of witnessed suffering. A long, weary sigh escapes him. 'Must we drag this out any longer?' His voice is flat, stripped of urgency. When…