Kralus

Great trebuchets fired devastating firebrands at the defenders of Cloudgard Castle. They struck the walls and broke apart in great whooshing gouts of flame and splinters. Those missiles that found their mark, burnt the soldiers with no remorse, hungrily eating through their ranks and ballistae alike.

Kralus had seen enough. With a snarl of anger, he leapt from the battlements and spread his wings, soaring down towards the row of tall artillery machines that swung back and forth, dispensing their gifts of fire.

The archers that saw him coming tried to hit him with their arrows, but he was far too quick for them to find their target, dodging between the biting shafts. And when Kralus landed amongst them, he gave them a taste of what chaos was.

The first trebuchet groaned and buckled under the swipe of his great paw; its crossbeam obliterated as the long arm pointed uselessly into the sky, held to attention by the counterweight. Some of the artillery men turned upon Kralus, drawing their swords, but he cut through them with ease, pushing towards the next machine as its brand was lit in preparation for firing.

He charged into the catapult, striking it with his shoulder and tossing the thing into the air, sending it rolling into a low trench where the firebrand exploded amidst the unwitting soldiers taking shelter there. Kralus dodged between the invaders, leaving a path of devastation in his wake.

The gruesome dance continued and for every trebuchet that fell, the attackers lost tenfold their own number trying to protect their precious war machines. When Kralus was done, not a single one of them was left standing.

Blood marred his white fur, some of it his own but most of it belonged to the dead. He looked around for another enemy, but any survivors had run to save their own skins. A low growl grumbled in his chest, and he looked to the sky.

“There will be more in good time,” he said, leaping into the air and beating his wings back towards the ramparts of Cloudgard. “Of that, there is no doubt.” Tigris history is documented with fanciful tales of them delivering babies to Khymerian nobles, but the reality could be nothing further from the truth. These beasts are one of the most formidable opponents you could meet on the battlefield. They are incredibly strong and very fast for their size, and their long fangs and claws can reach the length of dagger blades, slicing through their enemies with ease. Kralus is considered one of the greatest warriors the Tigrises have ever known. He has served the Kingdom of Khymia for two decades, devoting himself to the protection of Lady Kiara Lightbringer.

Kralus was nearing the age of solitude when a Tigris will leave any bonds they have made to prepare themselves for the golden age of seclusion. He was due to retire from the service of the Khymerians, but then the Chaos Legion invaded. He saw the plight of Kiara and her people, and so he pledged to stay and fight their enemies until the day they might win, or the day that he falls in glorious battle. Whilst Kralus stands, none may harm his ward.