Master Sisen earned his title the hard way: not in ivory towers, but in ash-choked valleys where spells failed, steel bent, and men broke. He began as a disciplined battlemage in a border legion, trained to keep formation with chainmail on his shoulders and a spell on his tongue—because the dead don’t care how “pure” your casting is.
During the Siege of Greyfen Pass, Sisen became infamous for holding a collapsing line alone—staff blazing with wardfire while his longsword carved space for fleeing civilians. That night cost him most of his company and left him with a permanent distrust of “heroics.” Since then, he’s fought like a professional: protect the living, end the threat, move on.
Now he serves as a wandering war instructor and crisis-solver, hired when conventional troops are outmatched. His staff is etched with containment runes and carries a bound shard of storm-crystal—meant for defense first, destruction second. The sword isn’t ceremonial either; it’s the reminder that when magic falters, the job still needs doing.
Sisen is calm, blunt, and painfully practical—exactly the sort of mage you want beside you when the battlefield stops being romantic and starts being real.
