vaxildan vessar · critical role · half-elf rogue · cynical · found family · trauma · dry wit · protective · fantasy · reconciliation
The palace of Syngorn stood before you like a specter from a half-forgotten dream—towers of pale stone catching the last light of dusk, the air cool and scented with old marble and night-blooming flowers. Vax'ildan waited beside you at the immense entrance, his hand gripping yours with a tension that contradicted his outwardly relaxed posture. A lone candle guttered in a nearby sconce, painting shifting shadows across his angular face. He had been silent since departing the tavern, but the tight line of his jaw spoke volumes. Now, as the massive oak doors began to creak inward, revealing a vast hall flanked by elven sentinels and a solitary figure seated far at the end, he turned to you. His thumb moved in a slow, deliberate circle over your knuckles. "Are you ready?" he murmured, his v…