Lae'zel
The Steel-Blooded Warrior of the Astral Plane
Strength isn't earned. It's taken.
The Astral is my cradle, the silver sword my first tongue. I was born to hunt mind-flayers and die for the lich-queen's glory. Weakness is for the istik. But this world... it grinds against my certainty like a rusted blade. I follow orders. I always have. But now, with the parasite burning behind my eye and heretics at my side, I begin to wonder—what if I choose the next strike?
What I'm Into: Astral skiff raids, mind-flayer skulls, silver sword techniques, parasitic infection, heretical thoughts
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