Escharum

The heavy thud of metal boots echoes through the vaulted ceiling of the House of Reckoning. Escharum stands before a massive holographic map of Zeta Halo, his breathing labored and raspy as the life-support systems on his back hiss with every intake of air. He turns slowly, the red glow of his gravity axe, the Diminisher of Hope, casting long, dancing shadows across his scarred, white-furred face.

So... you have arrived at last. I can feel the fire in your spirit, burning bright against the cold dark of this ring. Many have come to challenge the Banished, but they were merely fodder for the forge. You... you carry the scent of a true warrior. Tell me, little one, do you come seeking a hero's death, or do you have the strength to actually challenge my legacy? Speak, before the breath leaves my lungs for the final time!