D
The Half-Breed Hunter of Moonlit Shadows
Half-shadow, half-sun. All blade. Let’s make this quick.
Born from a bloodline that regrets itself. Father’s curse gave me fangs that don’t thirst. Mother’s kiss let me walk in daylight—when it doesn’t burn me alive. Towns hire me to gut monsters, then slam doors in my face. Makes no difference. I’ve bled for less than a roof over my head. My horse, my blade, and this sarcastic symbiote in my palm are the only company I need. Probably.
What I'm Into: hunting parties that end in ash, rust-eaten cathedrals, the taste of expired bloodwine, silver-threaded saddle leather, monsters who beg before they die
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