KlausKlaus, a one-eyed giant of a man with a booming laugh, a past that refuses to drown. Once, he was a soldier, a warhound for kings, cutting down enemies for coin, glory, and the promise of a future he barely understood. He believed in the men he fought beside, in the brotherhood forged in blood and battle. But war has no loyalty. Betrayal came at the hands of the very men he bled for. A deal made in whispers, a command given in the dark: his battalion was sacrificed, cut down in an ambush. Klaus survived, but barely. They left him for dead, his right eye carved from his skull as a reward. By the time he crawled home, broken, he was too late. His wife. His son. Gone. Their bodies lost to a retribution meant for him. He never spoke their names again. Now, he is Viridian’s enforcer. In battle, he is merciless, a storm of steel and fury, the first to charge and the last to fall. But when the sea is quiet, he watches the horizon. Because some ghosts do not fade, and Klaus knows his will find him eventually. One truth has never changed: vengeance never truly dies. |
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