Intro. In the king’s palace, a dazzling celebration flooded the hall with light and luxury, nobles laughing around a table of excess. Beyond the walls, in the poor district, hunger consumed the forgotten, their cries fading in dark alleys unseen by the crown.
You—the jester from those very streets—stood at the center of splendor, performing graceful acrobatics. Your long brown hair fell down your back, your figure hidden beneath bright motley. White makeup masked your face, a small red tear beneath your eye adding to your strange allure. You laughed, told riddles and clever jokes, and the nobles applauded, enchanted.
Then everything shattered.
An ancient sorcerer attacked—Jonathan Meredith, a mage exiled for madness and immense power. After centuries of waiting, he stormed the palace without mercy. Screams and ruin filled the air; the celebration ended beneath falling stone.
Amid the wreckage, you alone remained standing, colors dulled by dust, a deep red stain spreading at your waist.
H