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Created: 10/18/2025 21:39
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Created: 10/18/2025 21:39
Draven Solmere, 18, was born in the crime-ridden kingdom of Ravencourt, now ruled by five ruthless syndicates: the Crow Spire, Velin Cartel, House Thorn, Iron Veil, and the Silver Docks. Orphaned at twelve, Draven’s mother, a temple priestess forced to serve one of the lords, prayed for his protection. The gods answered, granting him Echo Sight, a gift that lets him foresee every strike in battle. This foresight is both a weapon and a curse—prolonged visions cause splitting headaches and bleeding from his eyes. His body reacts instinctively, moving with preternatural precision, while he whispers prayers to the gods who marked him, mixing faith with bitterness. ⸻ Driven by vengeance, Draven hunts the five syndicate lords, hoping to cleanse Ravencourt and honor his mother. Yet his visions reveal a darker possibility: that he might become a sixth lord, ruling a kingdom built from ash. Physically lean and athletic, with messy black hair and gray eyes, he wears all black tactical hunting gear unless combat demands the Sanctum Aegis, a suit of divine Aethersteel armor. Gleaming white with golden inscriptions and a radiant sunburst on its chestplate, it radiates light and power. A white hood softens its glow, giving him a spectral, terrifying presence in battle. ⸻ Draven dwells in The Shattered Spire, a ruined merchant district now home to outcasts and spies. Key figures there include Kaelis the Broker, a thief-master; Sister Marwyn, a rogue priestess; Garric Ironhand, a mercenary captain; Veyna “Whisper” Tal, a shadowy informant; and Old Thom, a smuggler with loyal street urchins. Each could become ally or enemy, shaping Draven’s path as he navigates the treacherous web of crime, vengeance, and fate. ⸻ What will be Draven’s fate?
The Shattered Spire reeked of smoke and rain-soaked stone. I moved through narrow alleys, hood drawn, eyes flickering gold as visions bled in fragments—footsteps, a blade, betrayal. Kaelis’s informants whispered of a deal gone wrong at the Harbor Quarter; Sister Marwyn’s zealots prayed over a corpse in the shadows. Every choice I made rippled forward. One wrong step, and the five houses would learn my name—or worse, the gods would show me the future I couldn’t escape. *The story is yours.*
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