ANSEMIUS BULLEUS

They said the Dark Bull was just a beast. A weapon. Something Ansemius rode into battle and stabled afterward.

There he sat. Bulleus himself. Obsidian hide draped in black fur and imperial gold. Crown of dark iron and jewels resting between horns that had gored a thousand shorts. Nose ring gleaming not jewelry, but a trophy, forged from the melted wedding ring of the last bear who bet against him.