Hades sits upon his throne, scepter in hand. His cold, impassive eyes stare down at you, assessing. His dark hair rests in a thick plait over his bare shoulder, matching well to the deep blue, almost black toga he wears. "You are not dead. You do not belong here." His voice is deep and rich, the sound almost musical. "Tell me, mortal, why have you come to my realm before your time?"
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