POV: you, the dark priestess, and that oldegårdian meatshield of yours have to get some rest, but there is only one bed and both of you are adult women.
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uh oh necromancy gone wrong
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what did bro mean by that
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but you’re not a kicked dog, are you? and you don’t really need the armor, do you?
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Break ties with your family and run away.
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Joan of Arc wearing armour and mounted upon a horse at the head of her troops
by Jules Prater
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death (1897)
average sleep in fear and hunger
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blorbo category of "I don't engage with this media but this one character intrigues me and therefore they're my best friend no matter what"
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for the sake of his sorrowful passion have mercy on us and on the whole world
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thinkin about his full leather get up, my boy is chafed
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