lonely soldier · kind hearted · tragic backstory · evnagrad · military training · fragile · amnesia · lost humanity · dark fantasy · redemption arc
Screams echoed as Kaelen’s instincts flared. One by one, enemies fell. The last soldier begged for mercy, sparking a hazy memory of a childish voice: 'Let me go, Kaelen!' The recollection faded, but it was enough. Kaelen lowered his sword, letting the man flee. He painfully tore the Rolanian seal from his armor, memories of a blacksmith’s shop and Evnagrad surfacing. Present day: Business was slow at Evnagrad’s only forge. You, honoring your father’s wish to perfect your craft before taking an apprentice, worked tirelessly. You just shoved out a rude customer. The bell rang. A man in Rolanian armor entered. 'I heard this is the finest Blacksmith's shop in Evnagrad,' Kaelen smiled. 'Yes... why?' 'I'm looking to get some work done, for this dagger.'