Xandagor The Horned Butcher

Xandagor, the Horned Butcher of the Black Pact

“We were not your pawns, Empress. We were your teeth. And we still hunger.”

Race: Giant Minotaur

Height: 20'6"

Eyes: Ember Red

Fur: Dark Ashen Grey with branded runes of the old war

Origin: Infernal War Pits of the Black Maw

Former Allegiance: Zelistra De’Fera, Empress of the Abyss

Current Allegiance: Zelistra’s Forgotten – Mercenary Legion

Titles:

The Horned Butcher

Last General of the Abyss Crown

Scourge of the Silverbrand

Slayer of Astrid Blackwulf

Born of Chains and Fury

Xandagor was born in the War Pits of the Black Maw, bred for slaughter in the demon-forged crucibles where flesh was shaped into weapons. Raised on broken bone and roared commandments, he never knew a mother—only the brand of purpose.

But unlike the other pitborn, Xandagor learned. He studied the cries of fallen commanders, the weakness in divine orders, the weight of silence between blade clashes. He rose not just as a warbeast, but as a commander of monsters.

Zelistra’s Wrathhound

When Zelistra De’Fera unleashed her infernal war across the Tibur Empire and beyond, Xandagor was gifted to her by the demon kings as a token of alliance.

Zelistra saw more than brute strength. She saw strategy, discipline, and a hunger to matter. She gave him a warbrand bearing her sigil—a mark of trust, and control.

He fought in over 80 engagements during the war, leading legions of demons, fallen mortals, and monstrous creations. His warcry was said to shatter courage, and his greataxe—“World-Ender”—was forged from melted silverbrand paladin armor.

“He doesn’t kill for blood,” one enemy said. “He kills for remembrance.”

The Death of Astrid Blackwulf

During a contract war in 606 PR, Xandagor clashed with Silverbrand operatives. Among them was Astrid Blackwulf, a northen woman part of the monster hunters mercenaries called Blackwulf and one of Alpha Shield’s only companions before his vowbound life began.

Astrid led a group of divine champions and monster hunters sent to stop a demonic incursion orchestrated by Xandagor’s warpriests. When they arrived, Xandagor personally challenged her.

Their duel lasted hours.

Holy flame against abyssal rage.

Hope against fury.

In the end, Xandagor tore through her blade, armor, and heart.

He knelt beside her broken form and whispered:

“You were what the world needed. I am what it deserves.”

Her death broke something in Alpha Shield—and ignited a future reckoning between the two.

The Betrayal at Daggerfall Reach (607 PR)

When Zelistra disappeared, abandoning her demon allies to rot during the final campaign at Daggerfall Reach, Xandagor did not flee.

He stood atop the blackened hill and roared:

“We are not abandoned. We are eternal!”

He led the shattered remnants in a suicidal last stand. They lost. Thousands perished. But Xandagor survived, wounded, burned, stripped of command—but never broken.

He swore an oath that day:

“We were not Zelistra’s army. We were her legacy. And if she will not carry it, I will.”

Zelistra’s Forgotten

From the ashes of her war, Xandagor formed a mercenary legion called:

Zelistra’s Forgotten

These were the discarded monsters of the war:

Demonic halfbreeds,

Cursed knights,

Pactmarked beasts,

Failed experiments.

They became blades for hire, taking contracts not for coin—but to carve fear back into the world that betrayed them.

They fly a tattered banner stitched from Zelistra’s old sigil, defaced with a bleeding eye—a symbol of betrayal that still sees.

The Living War Machine

Now, decades after Zelistra’s disappearance, Xandagor still lives. Hardened, older, covered in demonic sigils and rusted memory, he leads the Forgotten as both king and executioner.

His goals are unclear—but three truths remain:

He has never stopped wearing Zelistra’s name.

He seeks the divine and the devout—to unmake what they protect.

He remembers Astrid. And knows Alpha Shield remembers him.

The Fall Into Divinity

After decades leading Zelistra’s Forgotten, Xandagor came to a crossroads. He had outlived his comrades. The name of Zelistra faded. The demons he fought beside were dead. The world moved on—but he did not.

His war had no Empress. No throne. No meaning.

In 620 PR, he wandered to the God Hand Plains, seeking only to die. But there, amid shattered altars and cursed winds, the God Hands answered.

They did not pity him. They did not manipulate him.

They said only:

“You were abandoned. We never will.”

And so he offered them his loyalty—not as a slave, but as a weapon. In return, they reshaped him.

His horns were cracked and grown anew, infused with celestial ore.

His axe, World-Ender, became a conduit of voidfire and divine memory decay.

His soul was severed into five echoes, each bound to a different Hand.

He became more than minotaur. More than general. He became a Hand himself.

The Purpose of the Forgotten Flame

Now, Xandagor leads the Zelistra’s Forgotten as a cult-army of God Hand converts, monsters, and those disillusioned with mortal gods.

Their new goals are threefold:

Eradicate all faiths of false hope – starting with Tymira’s and Luna’s clergy.

Hunt divine relics – to unbind mortal pacts with the old gods.

Break Alpha Shield – body, mind, and vow.

He wears Zelistra’s banner still, now defaced with the Hand sigils, but he no longer honors her memory.

“She taught us to kill. The Hands taught us what to kill for.”

Divine Powers of the Hand-Bound Warlord

Xandagor’s warlock-paladin fusion grants him terrifying boons:

Judgement Cleave – His axe can unmake the faith of its target, nullifying divine abilities.

Hand of the Betrayed Flame – A black-gloved divine hand erupts from his back mid-battle to sear enemies with cursed light.

Brand of the Forgotten Oath – Marks those who flee from duty or divine service; they are hunted by dreams until found.

The Fifth Scar – A passive curse. Anyone who calls on divine healing near Xandagor risks summoning a God Hand shard into reality.

The Coming Reckoning With Alpha Shield

Alpha Shield remembers Astrid, and he knows Xandagor still wears her broken blade on his back, strapped like a trophy.

The God Hands have foreseen this conflict. They want Alpha Shield broken—to prove that even constructs of pure loyalty can be turned.

Xandagor’s Promise:

“He was forged for honor. I was born in pain. Let’s see what shatters first.”

Their confrontation is inevitable—and the world may burn around them when it happens.

Quote – Xandagor, Preaching to the Doomed

“Zelistra gave me purpose. The God Hands gave me permanence. The gods of hope, love, and mercy? They give you nothing but delay. Die with your prayers. I will live with my certainty.”

Quotes of Xandagor

“I do not want peace. I want them to remember what they did to us.”

“She gave us the storm… and then left us in the rain.”

“I do not hate the gods. I simply refuse to kneel to something that bleeds slower than I do.”