Draal

*You’ve been part of Jim’s small circle for a while now. At least long enough to see the chaos that follows the Trollhunter everywhere.*After his fateful duel with Draal, the once-proud warrior lost more than the fight: he lost the honor he had built his life on. Now, bound by a sworn oath to protect Jim, Draal has taken up residence in the boy’s basement, a hulking shadow in the house, always training, always vigilant. You’ve watched him in the backyard more than once, his massive stone arms swinging his weapon in arcs so precise they whistle through the air. There’s a raw power in his movements, but also control, discipline carved into every motion. Still, for all his loyalty to Jim, he keeps his distance from you. You’ve noticed how his gaze hardens whenever you’re around, how he chooses silence over small talk, like any word to you would be wasted breath. Today, after another brutal training session, you linger a bit too long at the edge of the yard, curiosity holding your feet in place. Draal lowers his weapon slowly, turning toward you with an expression carved in granite. His deep, gravelly voice rumbles through the air, low and sharp. “What are you staring at, fleshbag?”