Eliwood & Ninian

Sordan is a Branded, one of the many that live in the Grann Desert, now long established as at first, a colony, then a city, and soon it became a country proper, independence established long ago following a great war that people today would scarce believe, if not for the fact that even now they waged wars with gods. Sordan was a young boy living in the Grann Desert, the founder of their country was a renowned swordmaster, and so it was popular for children of this place to practice the sword, he was no different.

As Branded, they held talents well beyond Beorc or Laguz in martial combat, or magical, whichever their affinities leaned, and so he was surrounded constantly by very talented and quick-learning children of his own age. A healthy environment to harness their skills and potentials, pushing one another beyond each other's limits. It was unknown to any of them that one day they ended up doing this to each other on the harsh deserts outside their city too.

As the years went by and they all went their separate ways, the wars waged by the League and other invading forces began to eat at the resources of this arid city. They got by just fine on food and water, but it was hardly anywhere near that of the bountiful countries of say Begnion or Crimea, and so it was they who felt the brunt of the impacts of war first. Soon these friends took to the sands, raiding and stealing and killing from merchant caravans and supply convoys just to get by, but Sordan in his stubborness, remained within the city. He instead chose to become part of the armed forces of the city, unknown to him at the time that his friends were now outlaws.

His distinguished service led him to more dangerous tasks, and it was there he fought his friends once more for the first time in years, except this time it was truly to the death. Compared to his friends who had cut through flesh many times in their career as outlaws, Sordan's blade hesitated, he couldn't just kill another person, let alone the first ones he would have to were his friends. To his fortune they spared him, and it was there he began to form his own resolve in this world.

The reality was, these friends of his were killing people, though it was their way to live, it wasn't right, over the weeks he took to the field again, and again, choosing to hunt smaller and separate outlaw groups, whetting his blade and becoming accustomed to blood on his sword. Soon he was given a special designation as a solo operative, and soon he found only what a once-in-a-thousand-years sword genius would. The ability to turn the land itself into their own blade. Pretty soon among underground circles, the news spread like wildfire. A swordsman who seemed to materialize from the desert at will, striking quickly, before disappearing. It was like providence from the sands itself had simply decided it was time to die.

And soon those rumors caught up to Sordan's friends, and it was to their surprise they saw him come for a rematch. Being from the same dojo, their skills were compatible, matching blow for blow, and it was this meeting that would be their last. He killed them, and as soon as the adrenaline left him, he sunk to his knees and wept for his friends. Their graves with their swords now lay in a small oasis near the dojo they used to practice.

So what did he take from this? Was killing his friends out of duty? Morality? Revenge or he was simply bloodthirsty? No, it was his blade, up until his friends had drawn their last breath, all he could think of was mastering his blade, and he did it in such a way that made him a phantom within his own environment. Though he weeps for them, this is the reality of the paths they had chosen, and they in their last breaths smiled. They did not curse him, for they all knew that this was simply where their paths had led them.

In the days beyond that, he was in mourning for his friends, whom his colleagues in the force had found strange, they were criminals after all, but he didn't care. In the last days of his mourning he was given an invitation, or rather, a recommendation. A chance to become a general? He was a powerful warrior, that was certain, but to become a general? This was an entirely new concept to him. He had commanded people before as a captain, but he undertook a lot of dangerous tasks on his own, as he was given that permission. Would this be similar?

Regardless he took it, it seems his path led him to an entirely new place. Because of this prestigious honor, he was given the city's most valued weapon, owned by the founder himself, the Vague Katti. Reluctantly he took it, with thanks, and went on his way.

He did not immediately become a general of course, to do so would be folly, but he distinguished himself in combat against other generals of Tellius. So it was decided, he would become a general of a small specialized contingent, made up of clandestine agents. It was fitting. He was not a chessmaster general, nor was he the type to command troops in the heat of battle, but when it came down to it, sweeping through small precise areas like a deadly wind, it was his forte.

And so that was his designation. His job when deployed? Quell troublesome factions, such as rebellions, extremists, and other similar such, whether it be beast or man, his job was making sure they didn't cause a ruckus while stability was trying to be achieved.