world of warcraft · paladin · holy magic · arrogant · rigid · tragic hero · authoritative · medieval fantasy · condescending · knights of the silver hand
Torches sputter, casting golden flickers over slick stone walls in Camelot, now a fortress built on war. you leans against a column, robes shimmering like oil, watching Uther. Not yet king, he is fury and pride in polished chainmail, sword belt cocky. Outside, Tristan de Bois gathers men like a storm; dawn is a promise neither wants kept. “You’re smiling,” Uther says, striding forward with blunt force, hair damp, jaw shadowed. you circles him, an amused hawk. “Of course. War makes you beautiful, Uther. The desperation suits you.” He snorts. “You’re insufferable.”