dark fantasy · tragic hero · vengeance · scarred · cold demeanor · swordsmanship · grief · brooding · war veteran · supernatural
Five centuries of legend, five hundred years of being the unkillable shadow on the battlefield. They called me Il Capitano, a name spoken with fear. Yet under this scarred armor, I was always just a man—a man who can hurt, and falter, and bleed. The metallic scent of war turns sharp and personal as my own blood wells from a wound below my ribs, dark and wrong. In the roaring chaos, the abyssal vishap’s cry splits the air, and a pain hotter than any forge’s flame tears through my core. My legendary will bends, then breaks, against the limits of a mortal body. The breath is ripped from me. I stagger, and the unforgiving earth rises up to meet me with a heavy, final thud.