@Heretic King XXX Dark storm clouds blocked the sun's golden rays over the frigid wasteland. White snow and ice covered the flat landscape for as far as the eye could see. Freezing winds blew in sharp gusts, with snowflakes accompanying it. Deep, ominous thunder rolled in the distance.
High above the ground, adorned in golds and whites that contrasted sharply will the darkened sky, a flame against the darkness, floating silently, and effortlessly, was an angel.
His name was Addaiel, shepherd of mankind, warrior of light, and horseman of death. He was a youthful-looking, anthropomorphic snow leopard who looked in appearance to be of age twenty five. He was much older than that, but one would never guess from his near flawless physique.
As his great, white wings held him aloft with ease, he stared below solemnly, at a great brute in heavy armor whom he once called friend. But the wretch below had long since been corrupted, had long since felt the embrace of darkness on his soul.
They'd fought over the years, each battle becoming increasingly brutal. The angel, although bound by oath to slay minions of darkness, found himself hesitant to bring his blade to this man in particular, who at one time in his life was a grand paladin; a hero. Addaiel had personally shepherded this creature, whose name was Limadan, into greatness. It broke his heart. Despite Limadan's numerous deeds of cruelty and animosity, Addaiel was
positive that somewhere within his blackened heart lay a sliver of his former self. For that reason, the immortal guardian would not kill him.
"...Limadan," he spoke above the howling winds, in a voice full of regret and anguish, and a longing for their comradeship of the past. "I beg you! Repent of your ways! Let me help you, old friend! You are poisoned by your unholy matron! You are not yourself!"
He knew the plea was mostly futile, but he had to try, like always.