An ageless knight with a cloak of moss and mud. He rises from the deep woods in times of strife, and the trees part at his passing. He bows before no throne, a monarch in his own right, and though the king may own the dirt, he owns the forest above it
A wordless knight whose black robes hold the stars. People questioned his place in the court until the night the coastal city was sieged. Then he pulled the stitches around a star, and the sky filled with fire and fallen stars, immolating the enemy ships
A knight in dented armor. His pallid face obscured by his helmet, and flecks of blood pass his lips when he speaks. His sword is rusted and dull, but in the heat of battle, the grime melts away to shining steel, and the burning light of it fills the night
A feral knight who travels only by moonlight. Easily mistaken for an unwary farmer until he comes close enough to smell the blood on him, to see the yellow light in his eyes, the distinct point of his teeth. The roads are clear of bandits when he's done
A bookish knight with no armor, just belts strapped with colorful vials. Some are simple, some are adorned with decoration. Some are metal, most are glass. Inside each is power: to harm or heal, to grow or destroy. Only he can tell them apart
A young knight in untested armor trimmed with gold and patterned with roses. His golden sword sits unused in its sheath, having never tasted the bite of battle. An innocent exterior conceals the depths of power below waiting to be unleashed
A knight whose eyes are brilliant green. Whose faint tattoos mimic scales, whose teeth are too sharp. A knight who carries no weapon or armor with the air of someone who doesn't need them. Who spits fire and breathes smoke when he's asleep
An old knight behind a young face who carries with him knowledge of the ages. His mind is burdened with languages that have no one left to speak them, with towering golden cities whose name no one else remembers, and a world that no longer is what it was