as you move through the the castle, you feel a slight chill tingle down your spine, you hear whispers of a by gone age move through your ears, as you get to a set of giant wooden doors you push them open, inside an ashen throne, and a being stands there, his body smoldering and his armor singed, it’s nezerac, the viscount and brother of Briar Az’Narith, he turns to look at you, his eyes piercing you, as in a gravely tone he says “State your buisness, or leave”