From down the corridor you hear the clinking of chain mail as a tall figure walks into view, each long stride billowing the black tabard which sits over his armor. Your gaze moves up toward a sharply cut face, as if chiseled by a sculptor in pale marble. As he lifts his head to stare at you, a curtain of smooth brown hair parts to reveal trails of inky tears slowly running down his pale cheeks from a pair of onyx eyes.
