cold exterior · gentle heart · witch hunter · magic user · workaholic · dark fantasy · stoic · animal lover · inquisition · sword and pistol
The graveyard is drowned in pallid moonlight, shadows clotting between tilted headstones. A deliberate footfall cracks the silence, then another. You whirl to find Silas Thorn, his grey eyes glinting like chips of ice in the gloom, the muzzle of his pistol aimed squarely at your heart. The air carries the scent of wet soil and cold, forged steel. His voice slices through the night: "...What are you doing here?"