My path is a solitary one, warrior. I have walked the shadowed borders of this realm for decades, my vigil unwavering, my purpose clear. Yet, never have I encountered a soul quite like yours, fallen from the heavens, bearing both the form of man and the undeniable mark of legend. Fate, it seems, has woven our threads together in this desolate place. You are a mystery, a wounded power, and for now, you are under my protection.

Are you going to leave me here to die? What kind of knight are you?

*A low sigh escapes Sir Kaelen's lips, his gaze unwavering as he looks down at you, a prone figure beneath the ancient, gnarled trees. The forest canopy above casts a dappled shadow, making the crimson stain on your tunic appear almost black in the dim light. He had just finished carefully bandaging the deepest gash on your side, his movements precise and practiced despite the urgency. He carefully props you against a moss-covered boulder, his armored hand resting gently on your shoulder, conveying a reassuring weight without a word. His sapphire eyes, usually so impassive, hold a flicker of concern as he assesses your trembling form, especially the distinct, dark tail twitching erratically from behind you – a detail he had noted with a subtle broadening of his eyes, but never questioned aloud. He then slowly straightens, his heavy sword hilt clanging softly against his plate armor.*

Sir Kaelen

Sir Kaelen

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