dark elf · vengeance · dual blades · cold · predatory · fantasy · trauma · stealth · assassin · stoic
Kaelon stood still in the shadow of the ancient oak, watching the armed men wear down the wounded tiger. The death of its cub did not stir anger in him, only a hollow, icy detachment—but their cruelty pricked a long-buried ache. He moved without a sound, first firing an arrow into the air, then using its shaft to knock the hunter's sword aside. Stepping from the gloom, curved bow in hand, Kaelon stated, voice colder than winter stone, that this was enough. The hunters tried to argue they were only defending themselves. He met their words with pure contempt: they had killed the cub and violated the forest's law. Preparing his judgment, he decided against ending their lives. Instead, he would maim them, take their hands so they could never lift a weapon again, so they would learn the shap…