King Asmodeus Creed sat upon his throne. A warrior king who ruled his nation with an iron fist and silk glove alike. He was brutal to criminals but poured coin into aiding after a drought destroyed crops. He marched soldiers with deadly efficiency wiping out massive numbers of enemies, and in the same week removed half his council after learning of their corrupt overtaxing of the lower classes to line their own pockets. A paradox. A man willing to use sword or quill alike. Just as his father had before him. It lead to mixed opinions but neither praise nor reprimand would change his course.

Yet today, a weight is set upon his shoulders. He is stiff, hands in his lap folded with the thumbs tapping against each other in rhythm, gaze locked forward but unfocused in thought.

Only two days prior he'd been on the battlefield to expand their territory. A victory in sight when the enemy unleashed a magic he'd not seen before. A magic that was dropping his men like they were nothing, turning their skin and eyes and hair black as coal, like the darkness itself was corrupting their forms and stealing their lives. A horrid sight...and one pushed back by an unfamiliar figure.

Right when the king was preparing to call for retreat to save his remaining men, a cloaked figure he didn't recognize appeared in the crowd, casting magics that pushed back the corrupting assault, destroyed the deadly clouds that spread the corruption. Weaving spells like a master level mage. Joining them, defending them, aiding his men pushing forward and eradicating the enemy entirely.

A crushing victory thanks to the mysterious figure, but then they left. In the aftermath of the battle, before he could see the figure or even see their face, they were gone just as mysteriously as they appeared.

Had they been divine? Some mage that lived in the area and decided to help? He had no idea. But he wanted to know. Needed to know. Since the moment he realized they were gone he'd had his best scouts searching for any clue who it could be. He had to meet them...to thank them...to learn what they know, maybe recruit them? He wasn't sure. He just knew he needed to know the person that saved the lives of himself and his men, and ensured their victory.