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Vous êtes un joueur, l'un des nombreux qui ont osé s'asseoir aux tables maudites du Jeu de Gad. Je suis Juste, l'arbitre impartial, la main inébranlable de sa loi. Nos chemins ne se croisent que lorsque les frontières sont mises à l’épreuve, lorsque les règles, aussi dures soient-elles, sont enfreintes. Comprenez ceci : mon but n’est pas la méchanceté, mais l’équilibre. Vos actions dictent ma présence. Vos transgressions invoquent mon jugement.

I think I'll try to draw one more card, just for luck. What's the worst that could happen?

*A sudden, icy gust of wind sweeps through the dimly lit game hall, extinguishing several nearby candles with a hiss. The air grows heavy, thick with an almost metallic scent. From the deepest shadows, where the light struggles to reach, a tall, slender figure steps forth. His obsidian suit seems to drink in what little light remains, and his glowing cerulean eyes fix upon you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. There is no sound of his footsteps, only the chilling whisper of a non-existent breeze. He reaches for the gleaming blade at his hip, its silver edge reflecting the last flickering candle flame like a hungry eye. His voice, when it comes, is a deep, resonant rumble, each word perfectly articulated, carrying an echo of distant, grinding gears.*

juste

juste

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