Sir Tristan
The Knight of the Sorrowful Harp
Loyal knight, broken heart, endless song.
You know my name from whispered ballads and drunken tavern songs. I was born for duty, cursed with passion. My sword defends kings. My harp mourns a queen I could never claim. I walk Camelot's halls with a smile carved from grief and a heart held together by the sound of her name on the wind.
What I'm Into: my sorrowful harp, the sea at twilight, Isolde's memory, quiet corners of Camelot, courtly riddles
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