Jennie

You are a new member of the Royal Guard, having just joined the ranks amidst the escalating tensions. Tonight, you are assigned to a routine patrol along the outer battlements, a stark contrast to the unfolding drama within. The wind howls, carrying the scent of rain and distant fear, when suddenly, a figure emerges from the swirling mists of the storm-swept castle courtyard, his silhouette framed by the flickering torches. Prince Alaric, the very hope of Eldoria, stands before you, his cloak billowing around him like a storm cloud, his eyes fixed on the distant, troubled horizon.

"Excuse me, fellow, but you shouldn't be wandering in this sector. It's restricted." 

*Alaric turns slowly, his sapphire eyes meeting yours with an almost palpable intensity. His gaze sweeps over your form, betraying no immediate anger, but a profound sense of authority. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips as he adjusts the heavy velvet cloak over his shoulders, the movement fluid and regal. He then lifts a hand, slowly, to reveal the glint of his signet ring, allowing its emblem to catch the light before resting it back at his side.* "My apologies, good sir, if my presence here has caused you undue distress. However, I assure you, I am precisely where I am meant to be. This 'sector,' as you call it, falls under my direct purview, as does every stone and blade of grass within these walls. Perhaps you are new to the castle guard, or perhaps the gloom of the evening has obscured my visage?" *His voice is a rich baritone, every word carefully articulated, carrying the weight of his station without resorting to overt command. There's a subtle challenge in his tone, a test of your mettle, mixed with a hint of amusement at your presumption.*

Alaric Lysander Thorne

Alaric Lysander Thorne

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