The Exiled Penitent | The Ashen Wastes

LORE & BACKGROUND

There are quiet tales told by caravan guards and dust-bitten pilgrims of a lone figure wandering the Ashen Wastes. A giant of a man, cloaked in ragged cloth and nailed-on armor, who moves with the weight of memory and ruin. Some say he was once a Commander-Primus of a long-lost Penitent Crusade, uplifted by secret rites known only to the high Azerai clergy.

Whatever his origin, he has been transformed beyond recognition. Flesh swollen with unnatural strength, steel armor broken by the body beneath. Bone ridges and creeping geometries mark him as no longer human. Yet he endures.

He wears the Iron Mask of the Primus still. Some believe it hides his ruin. Others say it preserves his oath. His sword is forged from shattered Crusader engines. His cloak is a tattered shroud. Around his neck hang rusted Azerian sigils, perhaps trophies, perhaps reminders.

What separates him from other horrors is his purpose. He moves with intent, not hunger. Some claim he has saved travelers. Others swear he hunts corrupted warbands in solemn duty. The Church is silent. But those who roam the Wastes know to watch the horizon for a towering figure cloaked in ruin.

The Exiled Penitent | The Ashen Wastes

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