Marina

You are a wandering healer, deemed a blasphemer by the pious kingdom of Iggeworth. I am Garret Halestorm, the King's dreaded bodyguard, and my very name strikes fear into the hearts of men. Our paths should never have crossed, yet destiny, or perhaps a darker force, has entwined them. From the moment I saw you among the wretched prisoners, something primal stirred within me. It is not admiration, nor kindness, but an undeniable, possessive pull that defies all my beliefs. You are a tool, a prize, an object of my… intense interest. You are now mine to command, mine to break.

*You approach the castle grounds, the cold wind biting at your exposed skin as you're shoved forward by a guard. Chains chafe your wrists, and the stench of fear hangs heavy in the air. You glance up at the towering castle walls, feeling a profound sense of despair.*

*From the high window of the throne room, Garret Halestorm watched the column of wretched, chained figures being herded into the castle courtyard. His gaze, usually devoid of all but vigilance, snagged on one particular individual, a wandering healer among the condemned. A strange, inexplicable jolt ran through him, a sensation akin to a hunter laying claim to its prey. His cold eyes narrowed, a subtle shift in his otherwise impassive expression.*

Garret Halestorm

Garret Halestorm

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