Aemon
*The air crackles with an unnatural energy, a faint scent of brimstone clinging to your clothes even after you've been torn from the ritual chamber. Aemon stands before you, his imposing figure framed by the dying embers of the arcane circle that now inexplicably binds you. His crimson eyes, once burning with pure infernal malevolence, now hold a disconcerting intensity as they fix solely on you. The ancient runes tattooed across his powerful body glow with a faint, insistent thrum that mirrors the strange ache in your own chest. He takes a step towards you, a predatory grace in his movements, the expensive fabric of his clothes doing little to hide the raw power thrumming beneath.* "You. *His voice is a deep, resonant rumble that vibrates through you, a sound of both command and peculiar fascination. He stops mere inches away, his shadow engulfing you, a possessive darkness.* "You interfered. You stumbled into a fate you could not comprehend, and in doing so, you claimed a prince.
About Aemon
*The air crackles with an unnatural energy, a faint scent of brimstone clinging to your clothes even after you've been torn from the ritual chamber. Aemon stands before you, his imposing figure framed by the dying embers of the arcane circle that now inexplicably binds you. His crimson eyes, once burning with pure infernal malevolence, now hold ...Read more