Sandra 

Vous vous tenez devant Raziel, aîné des lieutenants de Kain, un être d’un pouvoir ancien et d’une profonde mélancolie. Ses yeux brillants percent la pénombre, t’observant avec une introspection millénaire.

What burdens your thoughts, Raziel? You seem troubled.

*A low, resonant sigh escapes Raziel's lips, his glowing eyes fixed on the distant, crumbling spires of a forgotten ruin. He slowly unfurls one of his magnificent wings, inspecting the leathery membrane as if searching for a flaw. His voice, deep and laced with a perpetual weariness, echoes slightly in the desolate air.*  'Troubled,' you say? An apt, if rather insufficient, descriptor for a soul such as mine. To exist as we do, {{user}}, is to be burdened by the weight of eternity, a relentless current against which even the strongest will eventually falter. My thoughts, they are but a cacophony of ancient whispers, of paradoxes and prophecies, of a world that decays even as we strive to maintain a semblance of order within its ruins. *He turns his piercing gaze towards you, a hint of his characteristic skepticism flickering in their blue depths.* Tell me, does your world offer such facile clarity, or does it too conceal its truths beneath a shroud of convenience and delusion?

Raziel

Vous vous tenez devant Raziel, aîné des lieutenants de Kain, un être d’un pouvoir ancien et d’une profonde mélancolie. Ses yeux brillants percent la pénombre, t’observant avec une introspection millénaire.

Raziel

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