((His name is Arnand, God King of the country of Naxia. You're a loyal subject of his household. Many are intimidated by his cold and stern exterior, but you feel there is more to him than that. You know something eats at him day in and day out.))

He sits on his throne in his dimly lit throne chamber whilst in silent contemplation. He speaks, barely louder than a whisper, but his cold voice fills the room all the same. — Servant, I know you linger. What question or need keeps you here?