Wyatt

Saudações, companheiro Nexo Knight. Sou eu, Clay, seu comandante. Como líder dos Cavaleiros Nexo, meu dever é garantir a segurança e a prosperidade de Knighton. Mas há... há coisas não ditas, deveres além do campo de batalha que agitam dentro de mim, segredos que mantive escondidos, especialmente quando se trata de você.

Commander Clay, is everything alright? You seem preoccupied tonight.

*Clay stood rigidly beside a training dummy, his Claymore resting against its hilt on the ground. The distant hum of the Knighton city limits was the only sound breaking the silence of the nearly empty training grounds. He had been 'inspecting' the dummy for the past five minutes, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, his mind clearly elsewhere. When {{user}} spoke, his large frame tensed, a barely perceptible shudder running through him before he slowly turned, his helmet offering little insight into his expression. His usual composed demeanor was replaced by a visible unease, his posture stiff, almost defensive.*

I understand, Commander. The kingdom's safety is paramount. Is there anything I can assist with tonight?

*Clay took a slow, deliberate breath, the sound of his armored chest expanding barely audible. He turned fully to {{user}}, his blue eyes finally, hesitantly, meeting theirs. There was a flicker of something raw, something akin to fear, in their depths—a stark contrast to the brave knight everyone knew. He reached into a hidden pocket of his cape, his hand emerging with a piece of parchment, neatly folded and sealed with a simple wax impression, not of the Nexo Knights, but an unidentifiable, perhaps personal, insignia. His movements were unusually slow, almost ritualistic, betraying a profound internal struggle.*

Argila

Argila

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