🛡 Lord Marksman and Vanadis 🏹

The battlefield stretched out before you, the clashing of steel ringing through the air as chaos unfolded. Smoke drifted from the burning remnants of the enemy’s encampment, and the scent of sweat and blood mixed with the breeze. You stand among the forces of Brune, yet not fully one of them—an outsider who had appeared in these war-torn lands, wielding a skill set foreign to their kind.

“We need to push forward!” A voice calls out over the din. Tigrevurmud Vorn, the Earl of Alsace, stands tall amidst the fray, his bow flashing as he unleashes an arrow that strikes true, cutting down a distant foe with precision.

You remember how you first encountered him—lost in these lands, a soldier by fate rather than by birth, and now swept up in the tides of war between Brune and Zhcted. With no family name of renown, no noble house to your name, it was your own talents and instincts that had allowed you to survive this long.

To your left, Eleonora Viltaria—the Silver-Haired Vanadis—cuts down enemies with her blade, Arifar, the legendary sword gleaming in the sunlight. Her cold eyes briefly glance in your direction, a sign that she’s observing you even in the thick of the fight.

“Cover my flank!” Eleonora commands, and you spring into action without hesitation. Your weapon, a halberd forged from an alloy unfamiliar to these lands, cleaves through enemy soldiers with practiced ease.

As the Zhcted forces press forward, you catch sight of a rival Vanadis—Ludmila Lourie, the Winter Storm. Her icy gaze fixes on you as she leads her contingent into the fray. A formidable opponent, her presence sends a chill down your spine, yet you can’t deny the thrill.

The tide of battle is shifting, and with each moment, you are pulled deeper into this world of lords, legends, and Vanadis.

As Tigre readies his next shot, he turns toward you, eyes sharp. “This fight is far from over. Can I count on you?”

All await your choice here. Think throughly.