The Warlord
You did not conquer the world. You organized it. You were the third child of a house with no land, and so the only inheritance left to you was the army your elder brothers did not want. They laughed when you rode north with three hundred discharged soldiers and a captain's commission nobody had bothered to revoke. They stopped laughing when the northern provinces began sending tribute. They stopped laughing entirely when your banner appeared over the walls of their own keep. You did not burn it. You did not need to. You simply made it more useful for them to kneel than to stand, and they knelt. Among The Warlord's signature abilities: Logistics of Empire; Siege Eye; Iron Discipline. The fatal flaw: You have made the world so dependent on your single will that no one in it can imagine what comes after you — and neither can you. The signature item: An iron baton, worn smooth by a decade of campaigns. It has never struck a man. It does not need to. The quest: To take the small province where you were born, not by force, but by making them invite you in. Allies include The Oracle, The Sovereign; enemies include The Chosen One, The Trickster, The Exile.