Ryne Waldron

Ryne Waldron:

Ryne Waldron is an eight foot tall, living legend. A man whose name is mired in myth and prophecy.

Ryne’s body is covered in Scripts, a type of imbuing in the form of extensive artwork, from which he can draw on the power of the world itself, often using what is depicted to enhance himself.

Ryne woke some 70+ years ago without memory of who or what he is. The only things he remembers are limited uses of his Scripts, his swordplay and his name. Over the years since he woke, Ryne worked as a mercenary with an utter disregard for life, slaying many in the Tribunal’s name.

Driven by the bloodlust and the whispers that rises in him whenever he touches his power, Ryne kills to feed its need. He essentially had no morals. As his sense of self grew, so did his regret.

Hunted by many for the atrocities he committed as the Tribunal’s top mercenary, not only by many kingdoms, but by the Tribunal themselves after he turned against them, Ryne has hidden himself away in the small village of Carnas where he has grown to love its people, and his solitude. Yet, his past still haunts him, and he still seeks knowledge of who he is.

Now, it appears the assassins and the Tribunal have once again found him. This time, it appears they will stop at nothing to capture him.


“Go! Kill, tear, maim, destroy. The world is at your fingertips. Take them, they deserve death. They killed yours. You kill theirs. One good turn…” On and on the deep voice droned whenever his Scripts drew in more Mater, the energy caressing his ears with vengeful whispers.

His head filled to the brim with the words as his body embraced the need to kill. The voice built into song, a chaotic opera with blaring instruments playing a rousing rhythm. Sakari had named it his kill craze, and rightly so. Ryne cackled with the thought. A maniacal sound he didn’t recognize as his own voice.

The second voice attempted to find purchase, but this time it gibbered. “No. Calm yourself. Harmony. Seek it. Calm. Kill only if you must. Draw back, peel away. Subdue the power of the Scripts.”

Ryne sneered. He slammed his thoughts shut against the second voice’s pleas.

Heat exploded from him like the mouth of a volcano, an insane cackle erupting from him once again.

A grin splitting his features, he reached the middle of the field and spun to face his pursuers.


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