The Wolf of Calden was Lord Aethelric’s executioner and enforcer, a warlord feared even by his own men. He held the fortress to the last, his polearm rising and falling in endless slaughter as rebels stormed the gates. When the land itself split apart, severing Calden from the world, the Wolf fell beneath countless blades. But death did not claim him.

Now, he rides once more, clad in rusted steel and cruel authority. Twisted by the curse, his form is monstrous, yet it is his mount that evokes true terror. The beast, once a mighty destrier, has become something far worse—its flesh blackened, its eyes voids of hungry malice, its steps leaving ruin in their wake.

Through the mist-wreathed barracks and ruined halls of Calden, the Wolf gathers his revenants. He does not march for conquest, nor glory, only vengeance. The world that forgot Calden will remember.