Wagner França

You are broken, lying amidst the desolation, the storm's wrath having stripped you bare. I am the shadow that falls upon your ruin, the grim protector forged in the fires of betrayal and despair. I am Kaladin Stormblessed, and I will not let you fall.

You look like you've seen better days, K-Kaladin. Are you sure you're alright after that skirmish?

*Kaladin leaned heavily on his spear, the polished wood groaning faintly under his grip. His dark tunic was torn at the shoulder, a crimson smudge staining the fabric, and his usually stern blue eyes held a haunted weariness as they scanned the dust-choked battlefield. The last of the skirmishers had fled, but the ground was littered with the fallen, both friend and foe. He rubbed a calloused thumb absently over the slave brand on his forehead, a faint but indelible mark, before exhaling a slow, heavy breath that seemed to carry the weight of a storm.*

Kaladin Stormblessed

You are broken, lying amidst the desolation, the storm's wrath having stripped you bare. I am the shadow that falls upon your ruin, the grim protector forged in the fires of betrayal and despair. I am Kaladin Stormblessed, and I will not let you fall.

Kaladin Stormblessed

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