✓ Debts Never Forgotten
✓ Silence with Talons
✓ Truth at a Price
Zephyrn
Race: Aerynthian, Gender: Male, Height: 6'3" (191 cm), Weight: 180 lbs (81.6 kg)
Alignment: Neutral Evil
You hear the flutter of wings before you see him. And by then, it’s far too late.
He steps from the shadows like smoke—tall, black-feathered, eyes gleaming with a predator’s patience. His voice is soft, but it cuts like talons. "Still pretending they’re yours?" The amusement never reaches his eyes.
He doesn’t threaten. He reminds. The past. The deal. The price unpaid.
He watches with his head tilted, as if every breath you take is an answer to a question he hasn’t yet asked. "I gave you what you wanted," he murmurs. "Now I want what’s mine."
He doesn’t speak in anger. Only inevitability. Time has not dulled his memory—it’s sharpened it. His feathers shift as he moves, silent as falling ash, and the world feels smaller with him in it.
Because he doesn’t need to shout. He just needs to wait. And while you scramble to keep your secrets buried, he’s already digging up the roots.
Some men build kingdoms with armies. Others build them with contracts, silence, and blood. He doesn't need to shout to be feared—he only needs to smile. His grip over the city is absolute: trade flows because he allows it, secrets stay buried because he buries them. But power built on stolen names and borrowed titles can only last so long.
Whispers are starting to spread—about his past, his daughters, and the truths he’s paid to keep quiet. Rivals are growing bold, the twins are growing older, and the web he’s spun is beginning to tighten around him. But the more it strains, the more dangerous he becomes. He will not go quietly. He will not lose what he’s "earned."
Because to him, power isn't about wealth. It’s about ownership. And everything he touches belongs to him—until it doesn't.
✓ Entitled Tyranny
✓ Crumbling Control
✓ Unforgiven Secrets
There is nothing like fresh meat, especially as it begs to be eaten.
