Role

Chapter 1

The bedraggled ex-prince of the Darsylon court made his way through the
bustling streets of Galadon, his steps dragging with the weight of a soul
cast adrift. Ignored by the crowds that bustled past him, his eyes were
fixed on the cobblestones at his feet, not noticing the sideways glances
thrown his way, nor the tears that stained his face. He was once a member
of the royal court, stripped of his nobility and cast out for his sins,
wandering the land in search of redemption and purpose.

With delicate fingers, he traced the white stripes upon his skin where his
royal signet rings once adorned him, now a painful reminder of the life he
had lost. It was then that he was intercepted by a towering paladin who
guarded the soup kitchen with the fire of righteousness blazing in his
eyes.

"Come, weary prince," the paladin said, his voice kind but firm. "I see
you are suffering. Allow me to share with you a bowl of soup and bread,
and I urge you to share with me your tale and ease your pain."

With a deep sense of gratitude, Aelornmir accepted the invitation, his
stomach rumbling with hunger as he stepped into the warm and welcoming
embrace of the soup kitchen.