#scarsofexile

(Closed starter for @void-storm ) The Captain had been travelling in search of other Houses for months now; his own House having become lethargic and lacked the tenacity it once had. He would not sit idly by while his Kell wasted away, nor would he partake in the House any longer. His armour was dull, having lost all sheen and lustre by the Captains own hand, scraping away the purple and white until he was all but grey. He had abandoned the fur cloaks in favour of unmarked brown hoods, signalling either that he was exiled, or a nomad. After a time he sat beneath an old Spruce tree to rest, gathering his items from his bag, and prepared to make a fire.