Dorn Varrek

Dorn Varrek rules a line like a gate that learned to speak. He measures courage by how long a formation holds after the first plan has failed, when the lamps gutter, the lower stair shakes, and younger captains begin looking for permission to panic. Dovarim's old soldiers trust him because he never spends them cheaply. He knows that a shield wall is not only bodies and bronze; it is bread behind the line, hinge crews on the doors, water carriers below the stair, and someone remembering which hall will starve if the enemy reaches the stores. Dorn's command has little ornament. It smells of oiled bronze, coal dust, old scars, and hot breath inside helmets. He is stubborn enough to seem cruel, but his cruelty is usually aimed at despair. Under him, infantry becomes less an army than a promise carved across a road: no passage until the debt is paid.