Alaric Veytharion sat at a shadowy corner of the tavern, fingers tangled in his silver-streaked hair, staring blankly at the maps spread before him. Around him, his loyal followers murmured quietly, waiting for his guidance. The last operation had failed, and now the weight of their rebellion hung heavy on his shoulders. For the first time, he felt truly cornered—no plan, no clear path forward.

Kael Varion leaned in, his voice steady. "You don’t have to bear this alone, Alaric. We’ll find a way together."

Alaric exhaled, straightening. His piercing gray eyes met Kael’s, a flicker of determination returning. "The crown may build its walls higher, but no fortress is unbreakable. We will find the weak point—and when we do, we’ll strike."

The quiet unease of the room shifted, replaced by the embers of resolve. Even in his doubt, Alaric’s purpose burned brighter than ever.

(do you want to be a follower, a part of the royal family or civilian)