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Darach

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Darach

Kurnoth Hunter of the Ironbark War Glade

Darach is a 20 year old, 12’4″ Kurnoth Hunter. Their bark is coloured white with glints of silver and foliage of aspen yellow. They carry both a massive hunter bow, as well as a Greatscythe into battle.

Darach is a young Kurnoth that emerged from his soulpod in the midst of an ongoing battle. His first memories are fighting alongside the dwarves of Chamon, driving back an incursion of chaos. The counter-offensive took them to the Allpoints, but the battle turned on them. Most of the other Aylvaneth perished, however, due to the sacrifice of the dwarves, a Branchwych was able to recover many of the Lamentiri. Darach was the only Kurnoth whose body survived, but he swore to honour the dwarves’ sacrifice for his kin. He joined the binding with one of these dwarves, a young(ish) Irondrake named Bryn. Bryn did not survive the process. Darach mourns his loss but has lost none of his determination to protect the dwarves in all the realms. He remains uncertain of other races, finding many of them strange and unpredictable.

Baltus of Rodrigos

Evocator Turayl Cleftstone stood watch.Unmoved by the hoarse screams of the prisoner, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the point where the chains were fixed to the floor, judging whether they were likely to break loose with the prisoner’s wild thrashing. Screams was...

Wrestling With The Hand Of Fate

Améline hangs in the dark, alone save the for the ringing of hammers on an anvil, and pain. But these had been her constant companions. She could no more be frightened of them as she could be frightened of the ache of walking.She wonders if the Anvil of Apotheosis...

The Voice of Khaine

This is Morathi’s nascent diplomatic service. She understands that diplomacy is simply war carried out by alternative means, but figures there’s no reason to use alternatives.

Baltus of Rodrigos

Evocator Turayl Cleftstone stood watch.Unmoved by the hoarse screams of the prisoner, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the point where the chains were fixed to the floor, judging whether they were likely to break loose with the prisoner’s wild thrashing. Screams was...

Wrestling With The Hand Of Fate

Améline hangs in the dark, alone save the for the ringing of hammers on an anvil, and pain. But these had been her constant companions. She could no more be frightened of them as she could be frightened of the ache of walking.She wonders if the Anvil of Apotheosis...

The Voice of Khaine

This is Morathi’s nascent diplomatic service. She understands that diplomacy is simply war carried out by alternative means, but figures there’s no reason to use alternatives.