Varnoks Unchained

Twin brothers born of chains, baptized in blood. Raised beneath the arena sands—where screams drowned out prayer, and mercy was just a myth—the Varnok twins were forged in cruelty. Chained to the same training post as children, they learned to maim before they could speak in full sentences, their bond tempered by violence and survival. Skarn, the elder by minutes, fought with cold, coiled precision. Calm, efficient, and unreadable in the ring, he climbed the pit ranks not for glory, but for control. To Skarn, strength is currency—and he’s spent his soul becoming rich in it. Rygan, wild-eyed and louder in both rage and laughter, fought like every moment was his last. He didn't want to win. He wanted to feel something. When the arena walls finally broke, Rygan fled into the wilderness, becoming a tracker and killer-for-hire—pursuing men and monsters with the same fevered thrill. Some say he’s haunted by what they did to survive. Others believe he's the only one who truly enjoyed it. Now free from the masters who once pitted them against monsters and men, the Varnoks sell their skills to warlords, cults, and tyrants—but never pledge allegiance. They fight together out of blood-debt, and apart for profit. Whatever morality they had was buried beneath the sand long ago. All that remains is the bond they share, and the violence they bring.