King of Orkney (Pre-war)

He is not a symbol of victory.
He is a symbol of endurance.
The King stands shaped by years of burden rather than glory. His presence is heavy, wrapped in layered steel and thick cloth, as if the weight of his kingdom has become part of his body.
Cold silver patterns crawl across his armor like tides frozen in metal, while a long cloak falls behind him like the memory of countless wars, losses, and decisions that never had clean outcomes.
His gaze carries the true story. Not youth, not pride—but exhaustion held together by responsibility. A man who has spent too many nights keeping a fragile kingdom from falling apart.
He is not a conqueror. Not a tyrant.
He is what remains when everything else has been tested.
A ruler defined not by how he rose to power, but by how long he has refused to let it collapse.