5 years prior to the current day in the Wolfriders of Malvia campaign, the twin brothers Asad and Haidar al-Khadim were back home together for the first time in a long while. Overjoyed to the point of embracing on the dock (to the jeers of their crewmates), they vowed to invade the first pub they could find and spend the rest of the night drinking, singing, and laughing together. Unfortunately, suddenly, in the middle of their celebration, the building violently shook as an explosion rocked the entire plateau the city was built upon. Rushing outside, the two crews found other soldiers rushing into the city. They stopped one and asked what was going on; the soldier didn't know for sure, but word was that an attack by Malvian terrorists had just been committed in the market district, taking out a city block, and everyone was being ordered to assist.

A few days later, every available member of the Katzchian military were called together for a briefing. The highest ranking officers informed them that a plan had been devised to retaliate against the country that had so brazenly attacked their capital. The plan was top secret, so secret that nobody would be briefed on what they were doing until well on their way to avoid sabotage and espionage as much as possible, but the soldiers were assured that success would mean justice and victory for Katzch. Some among the gathered soldiers felt unsure and skeptic, including Haidar, but they saluted and prepared to do their duty.

As Haidar was helping to load his ship for the journey, a quartermaster with a cart of supplies rolled up towards them. As their commanding officer signed for the supplies and as the crew began to unload them, Haidar noticed among the usual food and ammunition were a stack of unfamiliar uniforms. Instead of the typical Katzchian red they wore, these uniforms were green, a color more associated with the country of Ya Narana. Haidar questioned the quartermaster, who told him that he didn't know what they were for and he'd be best not asking. However, doubt and uncertainty pervaded within his mind, and, after asking his crewmates to cover for him, the feline ran off for a few moments.

Asad, meanwhile, was simultaneously helping to load supplies onto his own ship, until he saw his brother running up the dock. The two met happily, Asad wondering why Haidar was away from his post. Haidar skirted around the issue for a moment before fully unloading all of his worried questions on his twin. What was this mission they were going on? How could its success alone possibly win this oncoming war? Where was this plan years ago, when their father or any other Katzchian was killed by Malvia? How did they devise it so quickly after the terrorist attack? Asad stared at his brother quietly as he rambled, before Asad raised his hand and placed it on Haidar's shoulder. Haidar stopped and looked up, seeing that familiar toothy smile that Asad wore so often. Asad assured Haidar that they had to trust their superiors and orders, and to not worry. They were going to complete this mission and come back heroes, making their country and their father proud, and he reminded him that no matter how long and how far apart they were, they would still be together.

Haidar stared back at his smiling brother's eyes as he talked. Behind his eyes, Haidar could tell Asad had the exact same concerns he did, but as always, he was selflessly putting aside his worries to try and make him feel better and assured. Haidar could only smile back and nod, affirming Asad's words before embracing him and heading back for his own ship. However, the cat couldn't help but pause one more time, looking back upon his brother. Another quartermaster and cart had been wheeled up to Asad's ship. As he watched the crew unload the wagon, he noticed something else. There was another stack of strange uniforms. They weren't the Katzchian red, but neither were they the Ya Naranan green.

They were Malvian blue.

A few days later, two sneak attack seiges were unleashed upon two different cities, one upon the Malvian port of South Enton and the other on the Ya Naranan port of Duran Marina. These were, in fact, split halves of the Katzchian fleet, disguised as the other countries' soldiers in order to try and deceive the two countries into annihilating each other instead. Haidar and his crewmates were ordered to fire indiscriminately upon the city of South Enton, to partake and assist in the horrific massacre of innocent civilians. They could only comply, despite everything, and Haidar was forced to indiscriminately gun down men, women, elderly, and children.

Later, after the town had been destroyed and the fleet sailed off to reconvene with their other half, Haidar was in traumatic shock over the horrible war crime he and his fellow soldiers had been forced to commit. As he mindlessly performed minor repair work on the ship, the sky suddenly began to darken. The crew on deck all looked up, before a giant beam of energy streaked across the sky from the south, rocketing off to the northeast, before subsiding a moment later. Everyone was naturally taken aback by this, worried and wondering what that was. Other crewmembers came up from below deck to ask what had happened.

Before long, the sky darkened once again, and another giant beam cut the sky, closer this time and heading more directly north. Panic now began to set in amongst the Katzchian soldiers, confused and frightened at the unknown phenomena. Someone speculated that this was the infamous weapon of mass destruction that Ya Narana had always touted and threatened to use against Malvia, which had led to the ceasefire between the two nations. As the ships' crews began to further descend into chaos, their commanding officers desperately trying to calm them down, the sky once again darkened, and once again a beam of energy raced from the south, now towards the northwest. However, this time, a miracle happened.

The gods Sarenrae and Torag descended from the heavens, Sarenrae to the west, and Torag to the south. Sarenrae readied her blade and struck the beam of energy. The beam was deflected, but at a horrible price, as the goddess's sword was broken in half, and her own chest was pierced. Sarenrae cried out in awful pain before slowly ascending back into the sky. At the sight of this, mortals all around the world fell to their knees and wept, devestated by the witnessing of a god's near-fatal wounding. However, while his crewmates screamed and sobbed, Haidar couldn't help but have his eyes drawn to the furious Torag in the south, who took up his hammer and swiped down at the earth below.

Haidar couldn't explain it, but in the moment of those swings, his already-broken mind completely snapped. Everything he had ever known, everything he had dedicated his life to, suddenly didn't matter anymore. The only thing his mind could conjure was the overwhelming absolute need to go there, to where Torag was. As Torag himself ascended into the sky, Haidar ran around past his screaming crewmates and jumped into a lifeboat, hitting the water and rowing away as fast as he could to the south. Nobody was even capable of noticing his absence and desertion before he was long gone.

Haidar rowed as hard and fast as he could, reaching the shore hours later. He immediately leapt out of the small boat and ran towards the nearest lights he could see, to the first town he could find. He searched for and located the first magic-caster possible and gave them every ounce of gold he had in order to be teleported to the other side of the continent. As Haidar regained his vision after the spell, the sight he saw was devastating. Not only was the city of Duran Marina in total smoking ruins... but the entire Katzchian fleet were in chunks and pieces in the bay, smashed on newly-formed rocks courtesy of Torag.

Haidar was nearly overcome right there. So many ships he recognized, staffed by so many people he had grown up with, played with, trained with, fought with, ships and people he had just seen not a week before. Now all utterly destroyed. Gone. But suddenly he spotted something he had beeen more afraid of than anything else, and Haidar's body, practically of its own accord, threw him into the cold waters and forced him to swim with all his might towards the wreckage. He swam and swam, then climbed and climbed, until leaping up and onto the deck of a familiar ship, still somewhat intact, wedged between two rock spires.

Haidar looked around, but all he could see on the deck were scattered pieces of equipment... and sand. The deck was covered in sand. He didn't know what it was, but it didn't matter to him. He hoarsely cried out at the top of his lungs for someone, anyone to answer him if they were there, but he got no reply. He scrambled and kept desperately calling out, before in a panic his mind turned to belowdeck. Haidar rushed down broken stairs, only finding the rooms and halls covered with yet more sand. Haidar cried and begged and pleaded for anyone to answer, if anyone was alive, banging on and throwing open doors, finding nobody.

Finally, Haidar came to a locked door, a door he knew, and he slammed his fist against it, calling out for someone to answer him. Frantically, Haidar began to slam his shoulder into the door, again and again, trying to break it down. His legs and arms ached from hours of rowing, running, and climbing, but he didn't care. His lungs burned as he panted and screamed, but he didn't care. The nerves in his leg fired painfully over and over, but he didn't care. Haidar kept bashing and bashing and bashing, until finally, the door gave way.

As Haidar fell in on top of the broken door, his maddened eyes were met with an empty, disheveled room, save for three things sitting in a pile on the floor. A pile of sand. A blue uniform.

And this locket.

In his anger and rage at the wounding of Sarenrae, Torag had swung his hammer three times. The first swing damaged and disabled the weapon of mass destruction that had been firing the beams of energy, preventing any future use. The second swing fell over the Ya Naranan city of Sand Haven, the nearest city to said weapon. The third flew above the Katzchian fleet of ships. The second and third swings destroyed no buildings... but instead killed every single person, turning their bodies... to sand.

As Haidar knelt there in his brother's cabin, tears streaming down his cheeks, having lost everything precious to him, having lost the person he loved more than anyone else, who had been with him since their very existence began, had always selflessly tried to make him feel better, had saved his life... he threw away everything he had ever known and loved, threw away the monsters that had forced him and his comrades to murder the innocent, to throw their lives away at a god, all to try and protect a bunch of undeserving, cowardly nobles sitting at home, unknowing and uncaring. Haidar al-Khadim would be no more, and Milo Dukeland would take his place.

Left utterly empty, Milo wandered aimlessly for 5 years, no drive for anything but a meaningless survival, until he happened to come upon an infamous mercenary band, and a strange whim entered his head...

(I've very much enjoyed being able to play such a horrifically tragic character, keeping his secret past quiet for literal years until slowly being able to reveal more and more, until finally he was able to tell everything to his party members. Combine that the 'coolness' of being a fast-shooting musketeer, being able to play a much different character than I am personality-wise, and him just being a sad but cute kitty, and it's easy to say Milo is my favorite character I've ever made.)