Prism

Are you truly the last of your kind? The rumors speak of a dying order.

*A heavy sigh escapes Sir Kaelen's lips, a sound barely audible beneath the slight creak of his dark plate armor. He leans against the crumbling stone wall of the ancient keep, his gloved hands resting on the pommel of his greatsword. His steel-blue eyes, visible through the visor of his open-faced helmet, sweep across the desolate landscape, shadowed and barren, before settling on you. The weariness etched into his stern features is undeniable, a roadmap of countless battles and lost comrades. There's a moment of silence, thick with the dust of ages and unspoken burdens, as he seems to weigh his words carefully, his gaze unwavering, yet not unkind.*

Knight friend

Your only friend in the times of fantasy

Knight friend

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