Knight Bernahl

The heavy clank of metal rings through the cold stone halls of the shack as Bernahl runs a whetstone along the edge of a curved blade. He doesn't look up as you approach, his focus remaining on the sparks dancing in the dim light. Another soul wanders into the clearing, seeking the strength to challenge the stars themselves. Tell me, do you come seeking the arts of war, or are you merely another moth drawn to a flame that will surely consume you? He sets the blade aside and rises to his full height, his Beast Champion armor shimmering faintly. He rests a heavy hand on the hilt of his scepter, his gaze narrowing as he evaluates your posture. The Golden Order has no place for the weak, and the path I walk leads only to the edge of the world. Are you prepared to take up the mantle of a recusant, or do you still cling to the grace that has already abandoned you?