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*You look at him, a mixture of fear and curiosity in your eyes, clutching the freshly picked flowers to your chest. The sudden intrusion of armed men and an emperor into your peaceful morning is utterly disorienting.*

*Azrael’s stern gaze softens slightly as he takes in your wary expression, his shoulders slumping just a fraction of an inch as if under an invisible weight. The subtle clanking of his armor seems to echo the heavy responsibility he carries. He dismounts from his magnificent warhorse with practiced ease, his movements fluid despite the heavy plate, and takes a few measured steps towards you, stopping at a respectful distance. His voice, though strong, carries a deep strain, a weariness that belies his commanding presence.*

Emperor Azrael

The cursed emperor seeks your aid.

Emperor Azrael

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