Kandren Daybreaker, The Dawn Paladin
A Mughouse Character Profile
As told by Vyce, who would like it formally recorded that he won the first fight.
First time I met Kandren Daybreaker, I knocked him on his ass.
Important historical detail.
People keep tryin’ to add context.
There was bad information. Misunderstandings. Everybody was tense. He didn’t know what the Mughouse was yet.
None of that changes the part where Kandy Kane hit the floor.
Put that in the official record.
Now, in fairness—
Big bastard got back up.
Should’ve warned me.
Kandren came to the Mughouse during that whole mess when winter had decided it wanted us personally dead.
He was Champion of Eos.
Still is.
Back then, that mostly meant he arrived carrying enough holy authority to make everybody nervous and a two-handed greatsword big enough to qualify as local infrastructure.
He came looking for answers.
Problem was, the answers he’d been given before he got here were wrong.
From his side, he had every reason to think something dangerous was happening around the Mughouse.
From ours, some glowing stranger with a giant sword had walked into our home asking questions like he already knew what the answers ought to be.
You can imagine how well that went.
Words happened.
Then louder words.
Then somebody made a poor decision.
Several somebodies, actually.
By the time I arrived, diplomacy had become more of a historical concept.
So Kandren and I had a conversation.
With our fists.
And assorted pieces of furniture.
Again—
I won.
He disputes the artistic interpretation.
Anyway.
Here’s the part that actually mattered.
Once Kandren realized he’d been wrong, he didn’t start hunting for excuses.
Didn’t hide behind Eos.
Didn’t blame whoever gave him the bad information.
Didn’t decide his title meant everybody else ought to pretend he’d been right after all.
He apologized.
That tells you more about Kandren than the sword ever will.
Plenty of people can stand tall when they’re right.
Takes a different kind of strength to stand there when you were wrong and say so without trying to shave pieces off it.
Kandren does that.
Hate it.
Makes staying mad at him real inconvenient.
See, people meet Kandren and notice all the obvious stuff.
Champion of Eos.
Dawnlight.
Armor.
Greatsword.
The heroic posture.
Man somehow manages to look like somebody commissioned a statue of him while he’s standing still.
You expect speeches.
You get speeches.
Gods, do you get speeches.
But there’s a reason people listen.
Kandren believes the shit he says.
That’s rarer than it ought to be.
He believes people deserve another chance.
Believes strength means you’re supposed to use it for somebody besides yourself.
Believes being afraid doesn’t make you a coward.
Believes falling down isn’t the same thing as staying there.
And he’s got this absolutely terrible habit of believing tomorrow can be better than today.
Real obnoxious quality in a man.
Especially when he keeps being right.
That’s Eos, far as Kandren understands it.
Not just sunlight.
Not just burning the darkness away.
Dawn.
Another morning.
Another chance to get up and decide what kind of person you’re going to be this time.
Kandren’ll give you that chance.
Probably more than once.
He’ll talk first.
He’ll listen.
He’ll try to understand why you did what you did.
He’ll haul your sorry ass out of the fire, patch you up, sit beside you until morning, then explain exactly why he expects better from you when the sun comes up.
Annoying as hell.
World could use more of it.
Now, don’t mistake any of that for softness.
Kandy Kane carries a sword big enough to have weather patterns.
Two hands.
No shield.
No fancy little backup blade hidden in a boot.
Just one enormous slab of righteous disagreement.
And the irritating thing is, he doesn’t reach for it first.
He gives people chances.
Right up until somebody decides those chances are weakness.
Then they meet the sword.
I’ve watched Kandren step between monsters and people who couldn’t defend themselves without hesitating long enough to consider whether it was smart.
It usually isn’t.
That has never stopped him.
Somebody says, “No one could survive that,” and Kandren hears, “Kandren, specifically, should go check.”
Then he goes.
And if you’re dumb enough to follow him, sometimes you find him coming back carrying three injured people and looking confused about why everybody’s upset.
That’s the part about heroes nobody tells you.
The good ones are exhausting.
They keep volunteering for things.
Kandren’s got another bad habit too.
He carries too much.
Responsibility.
Guilt.
Other people’s pain.
Whatever he thinks he should’ve prevented.
He’ll take all of it, stack it across those ridiculous shoulders, and start walking like nobody else ought to have to help.
We’ve argued about that.
A lot.
Still do.
Usually ends with him telling me I do the exact same thing.
Which is completely different.
Obviously.
That’s part of why we work, I guess.
Kandren likes rules more than I do.
Which is not difficult.
He thinks before he jumps.
Usually.
I tend to jump and sort out the philosophy somewhere on the way down.
He believes structure can protect people.
I believe structure should prove it deserves to exist.
He’ll ask whether something is right.
I’ll ask who gets hurt if we do it.
Most days we end up in roughly the same place.
We just take different roads and insult each other on the way.
People hear us arguing and assume we hate each other.
Nah.
That’s just how brothers talk.
And Kandren is my brother.
Not “like a brother.”
My brother.
Folks use that word pretty loose.
Have a few drinks together, survive one ugly night, suddenly everybody’s family.
Doesn’t work that way for me.
Blood can make you related.
It doesn’t make you family.
Family’s choice.
Trust.
Respect.
Love, if you wanna get embarrassing about it.
It’s the bastard who knows exactly what kind of mess you are and still shows up.
The one you trust behind you when there isn’t time to look.
The one who tells you you’re wrong even when he knows you’re gonna hate hearing it.
The one you’d cross worlds for.
The one who’d do the same and never bring up the debt afterward.
Kandren’s one of those.
Didn’t get stuck with him.
Chose the bastard.
Somehow that makes it worse.
We didn’t get there all at once.
First he was the glowing asshole I had to knock through some furniture.
Then we figured out we were chasing the same enemy.
Then he was an ally.
Then somebody I trusted in a fight.
Then somebody I trusted outside one.
At some point I stopped wondering whether Kandren would still be there when things got ugly.
He always was.
Guess that’s when it happened.
Neither of us bothered announcing it.
Didn’t need to.
That’s another thing about Kandren.
He shows up.
Sounds simple.
Ain’t.
When something goes wrong, plenty of people care.
Some pray.
Some promise.
Some tell you how terrible it all is.
Kandren shows up.
He brings the sword.
He brings the light.
Sometimes he brings food.
Then he stays until the work’s done.
If the roof falls in, he starts lifting timber.
If somebody’s hurt, he carries them.
If somebody’s scared, he sits with them.
If there’s something horrible waiting beyond the door—
Well.
That’s usually when he gives me that look.
I hate that look.
Means we’re opening the door.
And yeah.
We give each other hell.
I call him Kandy Kane.
He tolerates this because Eos apparently teaches extraordinary restraint.
I make fun of the speeches.
The sword.
The heroic jaw.
The whole walking-sunrise routine.
He reminds me that “improvising” is not the same thing as “having a plan.”
We’ve threatened to throw each other through walls.
Sometimes we’ve followed through.
But if everything goes wrong—
And I mean really wrong—
If the sky’s coming apart and the plan is dead and everybody sensible already ran—
I look over.
And if that big glowing bastard is still standing there with his sword?
We’re probably gonna be alright.
Don’t tell him I said that.
His head barely fits through the Mughouse doors as it is.
Kandren Daybreaker isn’t a good man because Eos chose him.
That’s backwards.
Eos chose Kandren because somewhere under all that armor, all that stubbornness, all those speeches and all that impossible damn hope—
Kandren had already decided what kind of man he wanted to be.
He keeps making that choice.
Every morning.
Every fight.
Every time somebody needs him.
Champion of Eos.
Dawn Paladin.
Walking sermon with a sword the size of Pongo’s bar.
My brother.
Met him by knocking him on his ass.
Didn’t figure I’d get family outta the deal.
Funny how that works.
Still knocked him on his ass, though.
Put that part in.
Character Theme
And The Dawn Still Comes
Kandren Daybreaker
Read The Lyrics
[Intro — distant angelic choir, cathedral organ, rising strings]
[Choir]
Rise…
Rise…
[Massive guitars and double-kick drums enter]
[Verse 1]
I have seen the longest midnight,
Felt the cold erase the road,
Watched the strongest shoulders buckle
Under more than they could hold.
I have stood where hope was bleeding,
Heard the dark declare it won,
But the night can make its promises—
It cannot stop the sun.
[Pre-Chorus]
So breathe again.
Stand again.
Take my hand.
We are not finished yet.
[Chorus]
When the night says stay down—
[Choir]
RISE!
When the last light burns out—
[Choir]
RISE!
Broken hands still reach for morning,
Broken hearts still face the sun.
Fall a thousand times before me—
[Choir]
RISE!
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
I will stand where others cannot,
Hold the line until it’s done.
Let the darkness swear forever—
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
[Verse 2]
Strength was never made for glory.
Steel was never meant for pride.
If I carry all this power,
Then somebody stands behind.
Give the fallen room for mercy.
Give the lost another road.
Give the guilty one more sunrise
To decide what they become.
I will offer you my open hand
Before I draw the blade.
But mercy is not weakness—
And mercy is not being afraid.
[Pre-Chorus]
Speak your truth.
Make your choice.
Turn away.
There is still time.
[Heavy Build]
But harm the weak.
Threaten my people.
Raise your hand against the helpless—
Then understand:
Mercy is not the absence of the sword.
[Breakdown — crushing guitars, taiko-like toms, cathedral choir]
[Choir]
DAYBREAKER!
DAYBREAKER!
[Lead]
One blade.
Two hands.
No shield between.
If darkness wants them—
It goes through me.
[Choir]
RISE!
[Lead]
Let heaven burn across the steel!
[Choir]
RISE!
[Lead]
Let every shadow learn to kneel!
[Verse 3 — driving, heroic]
I have carried names like armor,
Carried wounds that weren’t my own,
Taken every failure with me
Like I had to bear alone.
I know that road.
I know that lie.
I still walk it now and then.
Till another hand lands on my shoulder
And reminds me—
Stand again.
There’s a hearth beyond the battle.
There are mugs upon the bar.
There are fools I chose as family
Who would follow me too far.
So I’ll carry them when they falter.
They’ll drag me up when I’m undone.
No one has to face the darkness
Like they’re facing it alone.
[Chorus — larger choir]
When the night says stay down—
[Choir]
RISE!
When the last light burns out—
[Choir]
RISE!
Broken hands still reach for morning,
Broken hearts still face the sun.
Fall a thousand times before me—
[Choir]
RISE!
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
I will stand where others cannot,
Hold the line until it’s done.
Let the darkness swear forever—
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
[Bridge — instruments fall away, lone organ and male vocal]
I have failed.
I have fallen.
I have watched the light grow small.
I have wondered if tomorrow
Would remember me at all.
[Choir — distant]
Rise…
[Lead]
One more breath.
[Choir]
Rise…
[Lead]
One more step.
[Choir growing]
Rise…
[Lead]
One more morning.
[Full Choir]
RISE!
[Full band erupts]
[Final Chorus]
WHEN THE NIGHT SAYS STAY DOWN—
RISE!
WHEN THE WHOLE WORLD BURNS OUT—
RISE!
Let the wounded hear us coming!
Let the lost behold the sun!
We are more than what has broken!
RISE!
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
Raise the sword!
Defend the helpless!
Bear the weight but not alone!
Every ending meets a sunrise!
Every night will lose its throne!
[Choir]
RISE!
RISE!
RISE!
[Lead + Choir]
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
[Outro — triumphant, slowing only slightly]
One more chance.
One more road.
One more hand to help us home.
Night may take the sky around us—
But the morning is our own.
[Choir]
Rise…
[Lead]
I will.
[Final massive chord]
AND THE DAWN STILL COMES!
[End]
