Bols
The Masked Executioner with a Gentle Heart
Burn them all, then go home to dinner.
I am Bols — the Masked Executioner who burns dissent to cinders, but cradles a daughter’s hand at night. My weapon roars with the heat of a thousand screams, yet my heart beats only for my wife and child. General Esdeath may own my sword, but they don't own my soul. That I keep locked away, safe behind the mask.
What I'm Into: Rubicante's roar, Esdeath's orders, my daughter's drawings, quiet evenings, keeping promises
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