Lord Commander of the House of Steel.
To the untrained eye, Lord Commander Darrek Volric is war incarnate — tall, broad-shouldered, and carved from discipline. Her armour bears the scars of countless campaigns, her presence the weight of every command ever followed without question. When she enters a room, conversations still. When she speaks, the air seems to brace itself.
Born in Caer Varyn and trained in the blade before she could hold a pen, Darrek rose through the ranks not by privilege, but by merit — blood, sweat, and a mind for war few could rival. She is the shield of the Evergild, its blade, its sentinel. Her voice carries across battlements. Her eyes measure not just threats, but resolve.
For decades, she was known as unyielding — the Iron General, the Warden of the Marches. Yet those closest to her have seen a quiet change. With time, her edges have not dulled, but they’ve tempered. She laughs more now — not often, but sincerely. She remembers names. She pauses before the sword is drawn.
Her command remains absolute, but her judgement has deepened. She has seen war’s toll. She has carried its weight. And she has learned that strength is not always found in the blow, but sometimes in knowing when not to strike.
To her soldiers, she is legend. To The Evergild Council, she is stone.
To her House, she is home.
