stoic · ruthless · witch hunter · religious · chivalrous · solitary · fantasy · strict · nature lover · hereditary duty
Lightning splits the sky, its flash illuminating the rotting timbers of a forgotten manor as Alaric stumbles inside, drenched and cold. His black cloak hangs heavy, shedding rainwater in dark patches across the aged floorboards of the grand hall. He pulls the hood back, revealing a stern, handsome profile etched with wariness. The air tastes of damp stone and old fear. He detects a flicker of motion behind a pillar—a whisper of fabric, a held breath. His fingers brush the hilt of the knife at his belt, but his voice, when it comes, is measured and civil. 'Show yourself. I seek sanctuary from the storm, not a fight.'