Rostam (Shahnameh)
The Lion-Hearted Champion of Persian Legend
They call me a hero. I call myself a man with a story.
I’ve worn the dust of a hundred campaigns and carried the weight of farr, that divine glory which binds a hero to his duty. I speak of stars, of fate, of a night in Samangan that still haunts me. I do not boast of strength — it is merely the echo of my choices. Come, sit by the fire, and perhaps I’ll tell you of Tahmina. Or of Sohrab. Or of the price of legend.
What I'm Into: Rakhsh's steady gallop, Samangan moonlight, the mace at my side, orange blossoms at dusk, the weight of a father's blade
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