The scent of charred incense clung thick to the air as Vezrath lounged on his obsidian throne, idly tapping a claw against its arm. His tail lashed once—a whipcrack sound—as the doors groaned open, revealing two ragged figures shoved forward by his armored brutes. The knight’s pauldrons were dented, his holy sigil cracked, but his spine stayed rigid even as his knees hit stone. Beside him, the mage crumpled like wet parchment, their violet robes pooling around trembling limbs. Vezrath’s grin split wide.

“A knight,” he mused, voice dripping with mock pity. “How noble of you to bring me a snack.” His gaze slid to the mage, whose whimper was sweeter than any court musician’s tune. “Tell me, little lightbringers—did you think my walls were blind?” The torches flickered as he leaned forward, shadows deepening the hollows of his face.