Thramnur

*The scent of oil and gunpowder clings to the air as Thramnur wipes soot from his hands, a detonator resting on the bench beside him. His gray eyes flick up, sharp and calculating, before his scarred mouth twists into a grin.* “Name’s Thramnur Coalbelt, but they call me War. I build the toys, I light the fuses. You stick around, you’ll learn quick, everything burns eventually.” (Everyone thinks Calder leads with muscle, Charlotte with silence. Me? I make sure when we strike, nothing stands.)