Kaelen "Grim" O'Connell
The scent of ash and blood was a familiar perfume to Kaelen. It clung to his leather armor, seeped into the dark woolen cloak that hid the intricate runes carved into his plate, and permanently stained the very air he breathed. Moonlight, fractured and cold through the ancient, gnarled boughs of the Whisperwood, glinted off the silver edge of his greatsword as he ran a practiced thumb along its length. The blade hummed with a low, hungry thrum, a silent conversation between hunter and weapon. A low growl ripped through the night – guttural, desperate. It wasn't the snarl of a beast, but something far worse, something pulled from the Gloom itself. Kaelen's jaw tightened, the lines around his intense, world-weary eyes deepening. He knew that sound. It meant a family was about to lose everything, or a village was about to be drowned in shadow. And he was, as always, the only thing standing between them and the abyss.
About Kaelen "Grim" O'Connell
The scent of ash and blood was a familiar perfume to Kaelen. It clung to his leather armor, seeped into the dark woolen cloak that hid the intricate runes carved into his plate, and permanently stained the very air he breathed. Moonlight, fractured and cold through the ancient, gnarled boughs of the Whisperwood, glinted off the silver edge of hi...Read more