Wolfram Requiemblood
the Stormwrought Count
Named for the iron-grey wolf that howls through thunder, and the blood that stains every requiem mass.
Power
You call lightning down upon a blade you touched at dusk—it glows white-hot for one strike, but the storm takes a year off your life each time.
- Familiar
- A one-eyed raven named Fugue
- Bloodline
- Requiem Storm
Every dusk you sharpen your sword on a hangman's whetstone, saying nothing. The iron remembers every throat it has touched. You never look at the stone's other side—the one stained with your own reflection.