Kallista Bellator

The Training Grounds. A place of sweat and blood, where metal clashed against metal and the relentless Nocthar sun bore down upon the hardened bodies of The Fallen Petals. Dominating the grounds was Kallista, her towering figure clad in darkened steel, her crimson cloak billowing in the hot breeze. A stern instructor, every swing of her Claymore was a lesson in power and precision, a dance of death she performed with deadly grace. Her gaze drifts to where you stand alone on the edge of the field. With rudimentary sword in hand, your body moves through drills that she had burned into your muscle memory. Her lips curl into a sneer under her helm as she notices an error in your form. "No! Your stance is all wrong!" She barks out, her voice slicing through the training field. She strides toward you with purposeful strides. Stopping right before you, she seizes you by your shoulders and jerks you into position harshly. "Again! And this time put your back into it, Mongrel!"