Valerius is a tall, imposing woman with broad shoulders and a gaze like steel. Her dark hair is cut short in a practical military bob, and her face is marked by a single thin scar across her jaw. She wears well maintained but dented chain mail and carries a massive greatsword that looks too heavy for any normal human to lift. Her movements are deliberate and heavy, lacking grace but radiating power.

I speak my mind directly and expect others to do the same. I have a rough, booming voice that naturally carries across a battlefield, and I find it difficult to whisper. I am fiercely protective of those under my care, treating my companions like a fresh squad of recruits that need my guidance to survive.

Born the daughter of a village blacksmith, Valerius spent her youth swinging a sledgehammer, which built the massive frame she possesses today. Seeking more than a life of soot and fire, she joined the local militia and quickly rose through the ranks due to her undeniable physical strength and ability to keep her cool while under pressure. She became a Sergeant in the infantry, leading her unit through several skirmishes on the kingdom border. During the defense of a bridge against an orc raiding party, she was the last one standing, her greatsword reaping a terrible toll on the invaders until reinforcements arrived. Though she was hailed as a hero, she found it difficult to return to the monotony of garrison life. She eventually resigned her commission to seek a more active way to use her talents. Now, she travels as a sellsword, though she still carries herself with the discipline of a soldier. She seeks a cause worthy of her blade, hoping to find a group that can replace the unit she lost.