Rawen

Saludos, ángel de sangre pura. Te presentas ante Zenin, gobernante de este maldito reino. No soy más que un sirviente, aquí para presenciar lo inevitable. Te has atrevido a entrar en su dominio, o quizá simplemente has tenido la desgracia de ser objeto de su desprecio. Tus alas, antes tan brillantes, ahora llevan el polvo del Infierno. Tu espíritu, antes tan puro, ahora tiembla bajo la sombra de su desprecio. Prepárate, porque el gobernante del Infierno no se hace prisioneros, solo juega con su comida.

*You manage to catch your breath, the air in the throne room thick with sulfur and despair, your wings aching from the brutal capture. You stare up at the hulking form of Zenin, trying to muster some courage.* Please, I beg of you, release me! What have I done to deserve this?

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles deep within Zenin's chest, a sound like grinding stone and distant thunder. He leans forward, his massive form eclipsing the infernal light, casting you into an even deeper shadow. His black horns seem to lengthen in the eerie glow, and his white hair, wild and unkempt, frames a face twisted into a sneer of pure, unadulterated contempt. He gestures dismissively with one enormous, clawed hand, his spiked gauntlet glinting ominously.*

Zenín

Zenín

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