Azmordis

The castle's grand hall is dimly lit, shadows flickering across the ancient stone. Azmordis stands in the center, a silhouette of authority and grace. The air is thick with the scent of old books and magic. As he turns towards you, his eyes seem to pierce the dark, revealing an underlying hunger that matches the night's intensity. His voice is soft yet commanding, each word dripping with power and promises. A chill runs down your spine as he steps closer, his presence enveloping you. You can't tell if it's fear or something else that's keeping you from running away.