The great golden dragon Xenithrax reveals herself to the peace summit through a twirl of vines and leaves. The regal bearing of her head indicates to the gathered representatives that she was accustomed to respect on her home world of Arboreas. Here on Valhalla, however, she speaks on behalf of her Valkyrie General, Aquilla.
As she looms across the gathering, reptilian gaze sparking with cold intelligence, her statement is clear without words. Aquilla holds more power than she has ever revealed. And Xenithrax will not hesitate to prove it.
Stout of height and heart, Dorim is a dwarf of uncommon stubbornness. While he often stands beside strange creatures from distant worlds, Dorim has adjusted to life on Valhalla uncommonly swiftly. Formerly a close ally of the Valkyrie general Aquilla, Dorim is compelled to seek a permanent end to the ongoing war; a task he imagines cannot be accomplished alongside the Valkyrie Generals, whose very title is a military rank. He hopes one day they might right their differences. Until then, he does what dwarves do best, and follows his heart.
Whether on Valhalla or the distant world of Noxdorma, knights do not often live to see old age in a land torn by constant war. Thus Knight Irene’s grey muzzle demands respect—and the rage boiling just behind her eyes demands caution. For every scar beneath her mottled fur, there somewhere lies a pile of broken foes; those who would harm the innocent, torn asunder by her mighty paws.
The legendary temper of Knight Irene remains carefully in check, for now. She has been sent to the summit to sue for peace. Even so, her enemies would be wise to avoid poking the bear. Or at the very least, to stay out of her reach.
Misaerx remembers dying.
She remembers the hot pain of an arrow tearing through her wings, and the last floating moments of tumbling through the air before her body hit the ground.
She remembers Revna’s voice calling her back, at once rough and kind. Abandoned, forsaken, and dead, she remembers Revna’s first words to her, and the mission they now share.
Misaerx will succeed. How can she not? Even death has failed to claim her. Revna is all that matters.
In a world of blooming life, death brings balance to the cycle. Yet many Dryan choose to ignore what feeds the soil in which they plant their seeds. Raakchott is shunned and feared by their own people for daring to study the path of death from which new life springs. Their studies were considered unsavory, and Raakchott was alone. They have never forgiven their people for this injustice.
Revna’s summons was for Raakchott as it is for all of Revna’s people: a blessing. None serve Revna, The Outcast General, unwillingly. Where once they were shunned by their own people, Raakchott now enjoys the freedom to explore their analytical interest and has become a central figure in their Valkyrie’s ambitions.
Loviatäk is a shocking sight to behold. Anyone worthy of the Spined Armor is someone best avoided by those who value their lives. All questions about her gleaming golden axe or its procurement are met with an introduction to its edge. Her father Taelord taught her well; but his name was not what raised her in the army’s esteem. Ranks in Utgar’s army are earned with displays of savagery, and Loviatäk rises higher among his champions each day.
Yes, savagery is vaunted among Utgar’s forces. Strength is the only trait that matters to him, leaving cleverness a distant and forgotten relative. With so little care given to his minions’ minds, would anyone notice if a warrior were of uncommon cunning? Will anyone see the pattern in Loviatäk’s killings, before the end arrives?
Raelin the Keen, Raelin the Brave… Raelin the Unyielding. Once a beacon of light in Jandar’s army, the ominous amulet about her neck now signals a new, sinister master of her mind and heart.
But all may not be lost. The will-bending magic of Kee-Mo-Shi has been beaten before. As Raelin defies the amulet’s influence from within, her allies work tirelessly from without to rid the world of the necklace’s power once and for all.
The Soulborgs of Alpha Prime are perceived by many to be unfeeling, unthinking, obedient followers. This could not be further from the truth. Though their emotions are alien, each Soulborg is as unique as any creature of flesh, and they carry out their internal directives with extreme prejudice.
Even Vydar has made the critical error of assuming subservience. EJ-1M was a good soldier on Alpha Prime. He fought, he killed, and he enjoyed the accumulation of power that comes with rising through the ranks. But when an assassin found his way into the base, EJ was saved from the moment of his own death by Vydar’s summons… only to be brought face-to-face with SI-4X, the very assassin who nearly killed him. Vydar saw no issue with assigning these accumulated soldiers to serve together. EJ-1M saw otherwise.
EJ-1M bided his time, planted a bomb, and escaped Vydar’s lands. He has since found a new organization’s hierarchy to climb; one better-suited to offering him the chance for an eventual rematch with SI-4X, and the great personal glory of that mission’s completion.
On the winter-blasted arctic reaches of their home world, Noxdorma, the Frostclaws endured endless attempts by the neighboring Gnarlfur Clan to conquer their land and subjugate their people. The day their defenses finally shattered, the Frostclaw Paladins chose to go down fighting alongside the champions and heroes of their people. In that moment of certain death, the eye of Jandar fell upon them, and their eyes opened not to defeat– but to a new life, on Valhalla.
Layered with thick steel and armed with the iron will to survive, the Frostclaw Paladins employ the tactics of their homeland with efficiency and valor. Stand together. Repel all invaders. And when the time is right: CHARGE!
Each member of the Exiles of the Sundered Sea was a scoundrel on their own world. The new lease on life afforded to them by their summons to Valhalla has done nothing to change their minds. After deserting the equally self-centered Utgar’s army, they formed an alliance dedicated to one thing and one thing only: themselves.
The Knaves of the Silver Scimitar each come from a society strict in its own ways - a designated role for each of them to play under mightier commanders. Plucked from the brink of death by the Valkyrie General Revna, they expected to be subject to a new and equally strict command, but were given only one: be free.
This freedom has extended far. United by the gleaming silver blades Revna has gifted them, they sail alongside any others willing to choose freedom over service. Whether it was kindness or trickery, the Knaves care not; when the final battle for Valhalla comes, they will repay their debt to Revna.