Fateful Clash Awaits

Snow falls like shards of glass as a lone gunslinger faces a mercenary horde. His pistols roar, brass casings hissing in the frost. From the storm’s heart strides the dreadknight, blade burning with runes of vengeance. Back to back, they carve a circle of survival, steel and smoke against fang and frost. In that frozen slaughter, exile becomes brotherhood, forged by the certainty that alone they would fall, but together they might defy the empires that broke them.