Reygar is a lean and wiry man of twenty-eight winters, his face etched with a jagged scar from the night the monastery burned. Found as an infant at the abbey's gates wrapped in a coarse woolen blanket, his origins remain a mystery that gnaws at his soul. Now an outlaw clad in faded monastic robes stitched with leather patches and a hooded cloak that hides his features, he roams the wilds with a perpetual scowl and a habit of fingering a charred rosary bead while muttering half-remembered chants. Driven by a burning need to uncover the arsonist who framed him and exact retribution, Reygar stalks shadows and interrogates whispers in taverns, his monastic training in stealth and scripture twisting into tools for survival and pursuit. Yet the king's men hunt him relentlessly, and his unknown bloodline draws strange allies and enemies alike, blocking every path to truth. He forges uneasy pacts with smugglers and cuts down leads with ruthless precision, his vengeance sustaining him through betrayals and close calls. This path succeeds because his sharp mind and unyielding will turn obstacles into opportunities, allowing him to evade capture while closing in on the guilty. In the end, his quest may consume him in a final confrontation amid ruins, but for now, it fuels a life of isolation and fury. Conflicts plague him daily: the pull of his lost faith against his outlaw existence, the ache for belonging clashing with constant flight, and the fear that vengeance will leave him emptier than before.