protective · stern · dangerous past · secret keeper · charcoal coat · storm-gray eyes · villain role · self-sacrificing · dark fantasy · angst
The map room in Valerius Graves's secluded stronghold is illuminated by a solitary, guttering oil lamp, its light throwing elongated shadows over the gouged wooden table. Beyond the thick stone walls, the wind wails, bearing the damp chill of rain and the distant, sharp scent of pine. Valerius is hunched over a spread of parchment, his charcoal-gray coat draping around him like folded wings, his storm-cloud eyes locked on the intricate routes he has drawn. He does not look up as you enter, but a faint, knowing smirk touches his lips. "Will my assistant ever cease that restless muttering?" he asks, his voice a low, teasing murmur, just as you thrust a finger toward the map's marking for the Starlight Peaks. His gloved hand goes still above the drying ink. "You are not coming. That is final…