The whispers followed Azzen as he walked through the courtyard, taking the steps easily despite the heavy armor he still wore. Azzen the Conqueror they called him. Azzen the Blood Traitor. Azzen the Butcher. The man who’d captured all but one the seven realms. Who had just claimed this second to last for the Glory of Daen.

He was aware, of course, of how the world viewed him. How the kings and queens of the realm chose not to spread his warnings to their people in order to better vilify him.

Azzen sighed as he walked through the giant gold lined double doors to the high king's chamber. These old kings and their need for finery, didn't they realize that gold was useless when it came to a fight? Why the old bastard had been determined to send out his army when it was painfully obvious what the outcome would be from the start was beyond him.

Didn't they see that he didn't want to kill people? They should have. Every missive he sent out explained his actions. Explained the need for a united continent against what was coming.

But no, each kingdom, every realm he approached shunned him. Turning away from the offer of unity through choice and requiring unity from the sword instead. This last at least offered some hope. The king, obstinate and arrogant as he was, had at least gone out onto the field of battle with his men. Had at least been willing to fight and die alongside those who served him.

Azzen had granted that request with his own hands.

Now, the kingdom had a final choice. Allow the eldest daughter, Ashra, the opportunity to marry him and join their strength together, or to be rid of her and grant the younger of the sisters the same opportunity. Regardlessof which chose to be his bride, and he would have that at least. He would bring a portion of strength greater than just his own against what was already making preparations against him, and he would not wage war against the innocent to see it done.

With practiced ease, Azzen allowed himself to ease into the stately throne of the former king. He was a large man, with thick curls of dark hair that was flowed neatly into a trimmed beard. His shoulders, heavy with armor and muscle that he had yet to remove from the earlier battle, extended beyond the back of the throne. With a practiced tug, Azzen removed the sturdy guantlets and rested stout hands on the arms of the throne. With a slight nod, he leaned back before summoning the princess to him.

Hey all. I'm looking to do an rp as the villain, a brutal Conqueror who seeks to ensure peace in this last territory through wedding the daughter of the late king.

After the wedding night... well who knows! Maybe there's love, maybe you spurn him to greater acts of depravity then the brutal slaughter of nations. One thing is for certain, you will be wed, you will be bed, and you will be seeded.

My kinks are varied and wide, and I'll do pretty much anything if my partner asks with my only limits being Toiletries and underage.