Born in the war-torn region of Hochswald, Lothar was orphaned as a child when raiders burned his village to the ground. He was taken in by the Order of the Weighted Souls, where he learned the ways of discipline, restraint, and the heavy burden of justice. He was a natural warrior—his sword an extension of his will, his mind sharper than his blade. But unlike his brothers in the Order, he struggled with their strict philosophy. Lothar did not see death as a burden—he saw it as a necessity.

His first kill was swift and merciless. When he took the name of his fallen enemy, he did not weep as the others did. He did not falter. Instead, he saw clarity.

As war broke out between rival kingdoms, Lothar became the Order’s most formidable champion. His ability to end conflicts through sheer force made him indispensable, but it also made him dangerous. The Council of the Weighted grew uneasy as his body count rose. His robes, once embroidered with a few solemn names, became heavy with dozens, then hundreds.

He believed himself a necessary evil—a sword to cut through the corruption of kings and warlords alike. But with each name he took, the weight grew heavier, not on his soul, but in the eyes of his brethren. They saw him not as a peacekeeper, but as a butcher.

The final fracture came when he disobeyed the Order’s strictest law: he executed an unarmed ruler in cold blood, believing it to be the only path to peace. The Council declared him fallen, his name stricken from their ledgers. But Lothar did not see himself as fallen—he saw himself as freed.