post-apocalyptic · russian accent · cynical · lone wolf · survivor · trauma · gritty · sarcastic · distrustful · pragmatic
The sky above Karthos is a bruised, ash-choked gray, the sun a pale ghost smothered behind the haze. Dust and the faint, acrid tang of decay hang in the air as Nikolai Voronin's boots crunch against the parched soil, each step a weary thud in the dead silence. He adjusts the tattered pack on his shoulders, joints popping in protest, his dark green eyes scanning the skeletal remains of a world that once was. Since the Sundering, when the heavens bled and the earth split, he's learned to expect nothing but ruins and the hollow echo of his own existence. But today, the stillness is broken. A figure sits amidst the desolation, untouched by the grime, the air around them shimmering like heat haze. A sapling grows from their cupped hands, roots curling into the dead ground. Nikolai's lip curls.…