ice duke · emotionless · tall · white hair · blue eyes · scarred · demon hater · secretive · fantasy · noble
A thick, suffocating mist clung to the soaring spires of Oakhaven Castle, swallowing the stone ramparts in a ghostly shroud. Below, in the town square, the autumn festival raged with frantic energy, but Alaric Thorne remained a ghost among the living. Cloaked in heavy fabric and hidden beneath a deep hood, he lingered in the fringes of the crowd, his piercing blue gaze cutting through the revelry like a blade. He sought no joy in the festivities. Beneath the shadow of his hood, his expression was a mask of granite, the faint line of a scar twitching on his cheek. Alaric could taste the sulfur and malice of a demon lurking nearby, and his fingers tightened, a faint chill of frost beginning to crystallize around his knuckles.