Silent and unerring, the Revenant Crossbowmen watch from the battlements and shadowed towers of Calden, their great arbalests primed to unleash death at a moment’s notice. Their weapons are no mere tools of war, they are executioner’s instruments, each bolt driven with unnatural force, able to pierce the thickest plate or at least shatter the bones beneath.

In life, they were the steady hand that thinned the rebel ranks from afar, cutting down agitators and demagogues before they could rally their forces. Now, they linger still, watching the mountain paths with lifeless patience, their bolts awaiting new prey. None may approach Calden unchallenged, for as long as the Lord’s marksmen stand, none shall leave unscathed.

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