Kieran noticed a familiar aura from the approaching leader — one of blood.
Like a Fiend, a bloody sensation permeated the man's being, but Kieran could tell with irrefutable certainty this man was no Fiend — no kin to him.
Before he knew it, Kieran had begun to frown as if he were experiencing a blasphemous ordeal.
Why did this man emanate a feeling almost congruent to that of a Fiend?
The answer was quite simple.
The approaching man had caused, bathed, and experienced an unthinkable amount of bloodshed. Enough to gain this dreadful mantle that followed him like a curse, only the man seemed to welcome that condemnation with open arms, similar to how a Fiend enjoyed the debasing of the Flame.
How many lives had this man taken?
As a Follower of War… the number was likely unfathomable. Similar to how the Fiend thrived on burning resentments, these followers flourished with the thrill of war and the heat of battle.
