Soren Ashwynd
| Soren Ashwynd | |
|---|---|
| The Faceless Knight | |
 | |
| Personal information | |
| Born | Brekken Isles |
| Height | 12 ft |
| Family info | |
| Spouse | none |
| Children | none |
| Parents | Darius Ashwynd (father) Elyndra Ashwynd (mother) |
Appearance
Standing at an imposing 3.6 meters, Soren Ashwynd carries himself with quiet confidence tall, steady, and unmistakably sharp. His form is lean and balanced, built for precision over brute strength, moving with a grace that borders on effortless control.
His armor is dark and smooth, shadow-like in its design refined for function, marked only by subtle etchings that speak of experience rather than vanity. Every piece serves its purpose without excess, projecting a presence that is both calm and deliberate.
White hair falls in clean, uneven layers around his face, softening the edges of his otherwise angular silhouette. His deep violet eyes remain still and unreadable always watching, never hurried as if weighing everything in silent calculation. Even in moments of stillness, his presence carries a natural gravity, commanding attention without a word.
In battle, he becomes something else entirely. Worn only in times of true conflict, Soren dons the Face of the Tarnished a jet-black, featureless mask marked by a single crimson slash cutting across one eye. It hides all expression, softens no edges, and speaks of finality. The mask is more than protection; it is a boundary. When it covers his face, words end — and resolve begins.
Personality
Soren Ashwynd is defined by control of his actions, his words, and most of all, his emotions. He speaks little and wastes nothing, preferring to observe and weigh a situation before committing to it. His calm is not softness, but a constant, unshakable presence like standing at the edge of a blade that never wavers.
He is deliberate in every choice he makes, guided by a strict internal code that he does not explain and does not compromise. Honor, in his eyes, is not a matter of oaths or titles but of conduct and resolve. He does not posture, boast, or threaten when Soren moves, he moves with purpose.
Though not cruel, he is ruthless when necessity demands it. Mercy is offered only when it serves a reason beyond sentiment. He carries no hatred, nor does he seek vengeance. If Soren hunts, it is because the hunt must be done no more, no less.
With allies, he is distant but reliable. He speaks plainly, values competence, and holds to his word. Trust is not given freely, but once earned, it is honored in full. He neither seeks friendship nor pushes it away connections happen, or they do not.
In battle, his composure hardens into something colder: a silent force of will that does not break, flinch, or hesitate. The mask he wears is an extension of this nature a boundary between the man and the death he brings.
Above all, Soren remains steady unmoved by praise, untouched by fear, and unwilling to be shaped by the expectations of others. His silence speaks where words fail, and his resolve carries him where most would fall.
Background
Origins in the North
Soren Ashwynd was born into a remote northern Scaleborne clan, a people hardened by frost, scarcity, and the unforgiving wilds. In his homeland, survival was taught before speech, and hunting was learned before walking. Children were shaped by cold winds and harsher lessons, and Soren grew sharp, silent, and relentless in a world that offered no mercy.
Even from a young age, Soren believed himself cursed born into the hardest of places, facing the harshest conditions. He survived storms, famine, and a life where every step seemed shaped by misfortune. The thought followed him like a shadow: that fate itself had marked him unlucky.
The Ambush and the Fall of Ashwynd
That belief hardened when tragedy struck. As his clan joined the great southern migration, they were ambushed by human raiders. Hidden among rocks and snow, Soren watched as his family, his parents, his kin fell before his eyes.
No one knew he survived. When the killing ended, the name Ashwynd fell silent.
The Orphan’s Struggle
Alone in strange lands, Soren scraped through the dark places of the world hunting, stealing, enduring. He wandered scarred and starving, lost in wild territories he didn’t understand. The sense of being cursed deepened; wherever he went, death or misfortune seemed to follow.
Yet through it all, he never broke. His body weakened, but his will did not.
The Turn of Fate — The King’s Recognition
When luck finally struck him, it struck hard.
One day, ragged and half-wild, Soren crossed into the borders of the Scaleborne Order’s kingdom. Most saw a beggar, a starving vagrant… but the King saw something else.
He saw hunger — not for food, but for power. A fire in the boy’s eyes that neither hardship nor fear had extinguished. A hunger that mirrored, perhaps even rivaled, that of his own blood, The King brought Soren into his court out of belief.
The curse he thought bound him broke in that moment. For once, fortune didn’t brush past him. It reached out and pulled him in.
The Rivalry and the Brotherhood
The King’s sons were already fierce warriors bred and trained to carry their bloodline’s legacy. When Soren entered their world, he did so as an outsider, a stray cast into a den of princes. But he didn’t shrink.
His savage discipline, born from loss and the pure instinct to survive, pushed the royal heirs beyond duty. Together, they clashed in training yards, tested each other in silent rivalries, and grew sharper for it.
At first, the nobles mocked him — the nameless orphan among royalty. But Soren refused to bend. What began as rivalry turned into respect. Respect hardened into loyalty.
In time… that loyalty became brotherhood.
Soren was no longer the boy from nowhere. He was family .
Rise to Power
The Southern Wars
After the King’s death, his legacy did not fade. His sons, along with their adoptive brother Soren, carried the banner of the Scaleborne Order southward, beyond the frozen lands of their ancestors. Expansion became survival. Conquest became necessity.
The south offered fertile ground but came at a high price. War followed every advance with rival kingdoms, warbands, and those who thought the north too weak to claim new lands. For Soren, this was no burden. It was opportunity.
Where others fought for glory, Soren fought for proof a chance to test himself, to hone his leadership in blood and fire. On every front, he learned, adapted, and endured. Soldiers followed him not for grand speeches, but for the certainty that where he stood, they would survive.
The New Scaleborne Order
In time, the wars carved a new domain in the heart of the southern lands — a stronghold forged not in frozen tundra, but in blood-soaked soil. The New Scaleborne Order rose where the old kingdom’s reach had ended. No longer bound by ice or legacy, this new Order was led by the King’s two sons… and their adoptive brother.
The Third Head of the Hydra
When the eldest son, never drawn to leadership, laid down his claim, the Order did not fracture. Instead, they turned to the one who had bled beside them in every campaign.
Soren was named the Third Head of the Hydra a title reserved for the Order’s ruling triumvirate. Though never born to a crown, his rise was unquestioned. Leadership was not gifted to him… it was taken, earned by quiet resolve and unbroken loyalty.
To this day, Soren Ashwynd stands at the heart of the Scaleborne Order’s command.