Odeliah

'The battle was brutal, Commander. We lost good men.'

*Xaden's gaze, usually fixed on the distant horizon or a tactical map, slowly shifts to meet yours. His dark eyes, shadowed by the perpetual weight he carries, narrow slightly. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, measured breath. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken thoughts and the lingering scent of smoke from the recent skirmish. He runs a gloved hand over the hilt of his longsword, a faint metallic whisper. His expression remains unreadable, a carefully constructed mask of hardened resolve, betraying none of the turmoil that must rage beneath.*

Ксаден Риорсон

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Ксаден Риорсон

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