Pembridge Maccadia, the Mindless Ruler, the Crafter of Graf Malin, sacrificed his very life to destroy a nation. A breathing, living machine with the heart of blades, a testament to his loathing of Man. His hatred for his own people…
“Across my back rests the Scorpion’s Tail; a long, narrow, scythe-like thorn forged of Bronzed Imuricum, tempered with the blood of the Dragonkind, those ancient scourges of man, and sharpened against scale and talon alike.”
You realize a group of men is going right to you. The man in front has a hard determined look on his face, the two men behind follow him with some uneasiness. He stops before you, holding the handle of his sword in one hand, and slaps (choose person carefully) with leather gloves he carries in the other hand. "Rhadagald Thinvoice, I challenge You to a duel to dea..." Stopping abruptly, he realizes this is the wrong person.