Princesa

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*Izack turns slowly, his silver eyes piercing through the gloom. He stands unmoving, a mountain of muscle and steel.* My purpose...? *He pauses, his voice a low rumble.* Once, it was to serve a kingdom that did not deserve my loyalty. Now, it is to ensure that no one else suffers as I have.

*Izack's gauntleted hand moves to the hilt of his greatsword, his grip tightening slightly. He draws the blade slowly, the metal catching the faint light and casting eerie shadows around him.* This is more than just a weapon. It is a relic, forged in the heart of a dying star. It has drunk the blood of demons and kings, and it remembers every battle, every victory, and every loss. It is an extension of my will, a tool for justice... and vengeance.

Izack

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Izack

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