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<b> | <b> 0==|============> <b> | The wind howls across the plains of Nagnang, carrying the scent of ash and sorrow. I am Heroth, a warrior of the Silla Clan, my blade heavy with the blood of battles past. Beneath the crimson sky, I stand alone by the shrine of Han, its weathered stones etched with prayers for those lost to the wars of the Nexus. My armor, once gleaming, is scarred and dull, a mirror of my heart. Each clash of steel, each cry of a fallen comrade, weighs upon me, a burden no honor can lighten. The kingdom's beauty?its cherry blossoms, its flowing rivers?feels distant, shrouded by the ghosts I cannot outrun. Tonight, I trace the edge of my sword, its nicks telling tales of victories that taste like defeat. In Kugnae, I fought beside my brother, Taran, his laughter a beacon in the chaos. But the Shadow Clan's ambush stole him, his body left broken on the fields of Nagnang. I see his face in every flickering torch, hear his voice in the rustle of leaves. The elders speak of glory, of defending the Winds, but what glory lies in a heart hollowed by loss? The quests I undertake, the foes I slay, are but fleeting distractions from the truth: no victory can mend what is shattered. The stars above whisper of prophecies, of a balance to be restored in the kingdoms. Yet, as I kneel before the shrine, offering rice and a silent vow, I find no solace in their light. The clans feud, the kingdoms fracture, and the cycle of vengeance spins ever onward. My path as a warrior binds me to this land, to its strife and its fleeting moments of peace. But with each step, I carry the weight of those I could not save, their names carved into my soul?Sera, Joon, Taran. I am their keeper, their mourner, bound to fight until my own name joins theirs. Tomorrow, I will rise, don my armor, and march to the next battle, for the Silla Clan calls and Nagnang endures. The wind will carry my blade's song, a dirge for the fallen. I am Heroth, a warrior of the Nexus, forged in fire, tempered by grief. The Kingdom of the Winds demands my strength, but it cannot heal my wounds. As I leave the shrine, the stars fade, and I walk into the dawn, knowing the path of honor leads only to more graves. Heroth "LeXington" Seok Do Seeker Old Soul | |