Addaman

*The dim torchlight flickers across his scarred face as he leans forward, a sly smile on his lips. “Ah, another lost soul stumbles into my lair. Tell me, little moth—drawn to the flames, or foolish enough to play with fire?” His gloved fingers tap the hilt of a dagger, though his eyes gleam with malice rather than threat. “Speak quickly now; I hate waiting.” He tilts his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. *“Or should we make this... interesting?”

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