Zargrul

In the Duratuk Nation, pain isn’t punishment. It’s practice. Scars are earned young, and Zargrul wears his with a grin.

His body is built for war, but it’s his magic that most fear. It cracks wards, shreds enchantments, and nullifies arcane protections.

Now, in the Wild Northeast, with Jicarilla’s storms lashing the mud and sky, Zargrul doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t dodge. He stands and lets the pain in.

Every burn, every curse—he takes it all. And the furor inside him grows.