He wasn’t born into it. He wasn’t driven by deep-seeded nationalism and pride. He did it because of his elderly adoptive parents that still lived in tents out in the desert. He did it because he was good at it. Great, in fact. His actions allowed him to climb up the ranks and defend against the greatest threats to Amol Kalit’s borders.
And yet he could never forget that day when the God Emperor so easily cast aside those that were the most loyal to him. He revealed he was nothing but a mortal, a mortal with emotions and ties that ran deep and clouded his judgement. That fateful day had left a crater in Amol Kalit, but also in Kaz's faith.
Kaz had been considered a deserter, and he knew his actions would bring swift retribution. He could only hope that the power vacuum left behind in the Emperor’s wake would allow enough chaos to give him a way out.
The former soldier had been traveling light and often, making his way across the Liadain continent to distance himself from the Empire. His travels took him to the outskirts of Maraan where he moved as a sellsword. His tall and imposing frame ensured that no one questioned his trade, and he hoped to pick up work to buy himself passage further away from here.
The trading town was bustling and lively with people from all across Arethil. Kaz had left behind his Imperial armor, now adorned in simple leather armor and a hooded cloak that shielded the lower hemisphere of his face. He sat near a trading stall as he sharpened the edge of his blade, the sword he used as a soldier. It was the only remnant he carried from his days, but only another Imperial that knew him would recognize it.
And yet he could never forget that day when the God Emperor so easily cast aside those that were the most loyal to him. He revealed he was nothing but a mortal, a mortal with emotions and ties that ran deep and clouded his judgement. That fateful day had left a crater in Amol Kalit, but also in Kaz's faith.
Kaz had been considered a deserter, and he knew his actions would bring swift retribution. He could only hope that the power vacuum left behind in the Emperor’s wake would allow enough chaos to give him a way out.
The former soldier had been traveling light and often, making his way across the Liadain continent to distance himself from the Empire. His travels took him to the outskirts of Maraan where he moved as a sellsword. His tall and imposing frame ensured that no one questioned his trade, and he hoped to pick up work to buy himself passage further away from here.
The trading town was bustling and lively with people from all across Arethil. Kaz had left behind his Imperial armor, now adorned in simple leather armor and a hooded cloak that shielded the lower hemisphere of his face. He sat near a trading stall as he sharpened the edge of his blade, the sword he used as a soldier. It was the only remnant he carried from his days, but only another Imperial that knew him would recognize it.