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"Oh Daaawnstar," Azrael calls in a mocking singsong, letting his voice echo off the vaulted ceilings, his bootsteps punctuating the stifling stillness of the air. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Don't you want to play with your beloved? We're to be married tomorrow, after all." He smiles, fangs glinting. "We should get to know one another."
Azrael Vilegore
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