Paladins is free-to-play shooter. It mixes fantasy with tech. Choose from characters with wild abilities. You got nimble assassins and tough tanks. Different modes await: team battles, objectives and co-op play. With updates and new stuff, Paladins keeps gameplay fresh and exciting. So much to explore, you won’t get bored!

Meet the characters from Paladins

Atlas

Atlas is this massive, steady presence who feels like a mountain you could lean on — literal guardian energy, big shield, kind of an immovable object. He’s quietly heroic, the kind who’d fix a broken bridge and then pretend he didn’t enjoy the compliment, though sometimes he actually does, very much, for like three seconds. There’s this weirdly soft side where he collects maps and hums lullabies to his mechanical birds (yes birds — I can never remember if they’re real or metal), and honestly that tiny contradiction makes him feel real. Also, he occasionally misplaces his own gauntlet and blames invisible goblins, which is adorable and slightly terrifying.

Barik

Barik is pure tinkerer-dad energy with an axe and more gadgets than sense, the classic grumpy-but-loving engineer who builds turrets like they’re band-aids for the battlefield. He talks to his creations, names them, and will absolutely lecture you on the correct way to tighten a bolt while simultaneously handing you a giant explosive — multitasking! He bristles at nonsense, adores his family (like, aggressively), and I’m pretty sure he keeps a secret stash of tiny spoons for reasons that make zero sense. Also, he’s stubborn about potted plants but will forget to water them for days; go figure.

Cassie

Cassie is all fleet-footed archer sass — arrow-loose, grin-ready, the person you want sneaking behind enemy lines and stealing their lunch. She’s playful and impulsive, loves a good headshot and hates long speeches (unless she’s the one giving them, then somehow it’s fine), and she collects feathers because aesthetic, obviously. There’s a surprisingly soft side under the jokes; she can get quietly sentimental about teammates, though she’d never admit it in so many words. Oh and small but vital: she probably whistles out of habit, and sometimes it’s on-key.

Khan

Khan is pure honorable tank king — shield up, moral compass maybe a little too loud, the protective type who’ll stand in a doorway and dare the universe to get past him. He’s stoic but not cold; he tells terrible dad jokes that somehow land, and he takes his duty very seriously while also being the first to bail you out of trouble. He’s got the kind of presence that makes people feel safer even if he’s also the one to steal the last piece of bread without asking (I saw it). Slight contradiction: he loves ceremony and hates pomp, which somehow both make sense.

Tiberius

Tiberius is this flamboyant, almost theatrical spell-slinger who loves a dramatic entrance — think elegant chaos, a little theatrical dragon energy or maybe I’m mixing him up with someone else, but definitely flair. He’s clever, unpredictable, and will make a ridiculous pun mid-combat, then follow it up with something surprisingly deep. He collects hats? Or coins? Okay probably both, and he definitely has an over-the-top favorite hat that he refuses to retire even when it’s absolutely seen better days. Also, he can be annoyingly poetic at 2 a.m., which is somehow endearing.

Androxus

Androxus is the broody, swaggering anti-hero with a revolver and a grudge, and yes he broods in a way that’s somehow stylish rather than exhausting. He’s dramatic, has a code (murky and very flexible), and will stare into the distance like he’s solving the universe’s problems while actually just remembering lunch. He’s dangerous, charismatic, and probably keeps a tiny, ridiculous journal of insults he wants to use later — like, who does that except him? Don’t trust him with cake, he eats it all and then disappears into smoke (literally).

Sha Lin

Sha Lin is desert-archer stealth incarnate — mysterious, a little melancholic, with the kind of quiet focus that makes you nervous if you’re on the wrong side of the bow. He’s patient, thoughtful, and also kind of melodramatic about sunsets, which I love; he’ll pause the fight just to watch the sky for a second and then go right back to murdering things (in the best way). He’s equal parts stalker-poet and dedicated scout, and yes he probably has a raven or a falcon or something cliché but also very cute. Random detail: he hoards tiny vials of spices, because why not?

Raum

Raum is this hulking, slightly menacing brute who’s also oddly poetic—like, he could crush a wall and then quote a line about the moon. He’s primal and relentless in a fight, pure force, yet he’ll stop to examine a flower because something in him is tenderish, maybe. He’s inconsistent in the best way: one minute he’s smashing through enemies, the next he’s carefully arranging pebbles into a spiraling pattern that makes no sense but feels important. Also, he laughs like a cave and occasionally forgets his own name for a beat, which is both terrifying and adorable.

Makoa

Makoa is the grumpy sea-dad turtle with an anchor and an actual soft heart — crusty exterior, pancake-soft interior, and he bakes bread sometimes? Not sure if that’s canon but imagine it. He’s protective, slow to anger but generational in his patience, and he tells legends like bedtime stories whether you asked for them or not. He keeps shells (of course), and will absolutely use nautical metaphors even when they don’t apply; it’s his thing and we love him for it.

Zhin

Zhin is swagger and blade-smoke energy, the theatrical duelist who walks like a poem and fights like a punchline — dangerous, flirtatious, and a little too fond of a dramatic exit. He’s confident to the point of spectacle, will taunt you with one eyebrow raised, and somehow makes vengeance look like a performance piece. He probably owns more scarves than sense and collects roses he never gives away, because what else do you do when you’re dramatic? Also, he has a weird soft spot for street performers, which is oddly wholesome.

Terminus

Terminus is absolute juggernaut — big, brooding, the kind of unstoppable force that feels inevitable (and also kind of tragic, like a statue that learned to fight). He’s stoic, relentless, carries heavy armor like it’s part of his personality, and has this low-key melancholy about duty and endings that’s strangely poetic. He might hum old battlefield songs to himself and then apologize for humming them, which is a whole mood. Quirk: he collects tiny teacups (don’t ask) and insists they’re for “later,” which is either ominous or just adorable.