Bearers
Not all who carry a blade are worthy of the name.
These are the ones who survived. The ones whose names were whispered in fear, respect, or warning. Most are dead now. Some should be.
The Scar
He does not introduce himself.
Those who've traveled with him describe a man who speaks only when necessary, moves with the certainty of someone who's killed more than he's saved, and carries his blade like a burden he refuses to set down.
Some say he was a student of the old schools. Others claim he learned by surviving what should have killed him. His swordsmanship is clean, efficient, and brutal—no flourish, no ceremony. He cuts to end the fight, not to prove a point.
But those who've seen him fight also speak of hesitation. A split-second pause before the final strike. As if he is weighing something no one else can see.
He does not seek fame. He does not seek redemption.
He simply walks.
And wherever he goes, the dead follow.
"He told me once that the sword doesn't make you strong. It just makes you responsible for what you do with it."
— Last words of a dying companion, name unknown
Conflicting Account:
A merchant from Greyhollow claims the man called "the Scar" died three winters ago in a tavern fire. Others say that was someone else. The records do not agree.
[Additional entries to be added]
This archive is incomplete. Many bearers have been lost to time, or their stories were never written down. If you know of one who should be remembered, their tale may yet be recorded here.