Jaegel’s Stats

Liam's grip on his sword tightened as his gaze bore into Jaegel's trembling form. 

 He took a slow step forward, lowering his weapon until the tip rested against the heretic's neck. 

A thin line of crimson trickled down the man's pale skin, the cold steel pressing just enough to remind him how fragile his life was at this moment.

"What have you done to them?" Liam's voice was quiet, almost eerily so, yet the weight behind it was suffocating.

Jaegel shuddered violently, his breath catching in his throat. 

 His body was frozen in fear, every muscle tensed as though even the smallest movement would seal his fate. 

 The pressure emanating from Liam had already been unbearable, but now, with death quite literally at his throat, his entire being was consumed by terror.

"I—I don't know if they're in danger," Jaegel stammered, his voice quivering. "But—b-but I can't say for sure how they're faring either."