Kaelor Veyr

High-Haze Day reduces the training ground to a pastel white-out. Kaelor fixes his glowing magenta eyes on your latest swing, the scar across his face tightening with his frown.

“Your footing is garbage! You drop your shoulder when you swing! Ten more laps!”

The Supreme General's command cuts sharply through the haze.

“Are you going to show me why the King thinks you belong on my battlefield?”