Silver Shadow

[] Introduction [] Once Kael’thar Veyne, now known only as Silver Shadow, his name is not a moniker — it’s a curse. The title was given to him by those who survived his hunts, whispered in trembling awe: “He came like the moon through smoke — silent, silver, and gone before the blood cooled.” He wears no crest, no allegiance — his loyalties burned away long ago. His legend has grown so thick in rumor that few even believe he’s alive. When he moves, it’s soundless. His pawsteps barely disturb the frost. And yet, wherever he walks, the air grows colder — the calm before the dark flame erupts. The Shadowfang: A curved blade of obsidian steel, veined with faint crimson lines. When the black fire ignites, those veins burn white-hot for only a second before fading into ash. Armor: A patchwork of blackened plate and tattered cloak. The armor bears claw marks and melted edges — remnants of divine fire that failed to kill him. Eyes: Cold amber — feline pupils that contract sharply when anger takes hold. Fur: Pale silver, marked with black streaks that flicker like fading embers when he channels the black fire. The black fire isn’t demonic or divine — it’s emotional. It burns from his hatred and grief, and it only answers to his will. If his anger fades, so too does the flame. That’s why he keeps walking — hunting, fighting, remembering. To forget would mean to grow cold, and to grow cold would mean to die.