Azrog
Azrog, Who Whispers The Secrets of Progress and Advancement, Master of Foresight, Knower of All Paths.
Azrog is there when brilliant minds are tempted. Azrog is there when the anatomist dissects the corpse, when the chemist tests a new poison, when the artificer builds a better engine; always whispering, always pushing further, always pressing for results. Azrog whispers that sacrifices must be made, that casualties are inevitable, that the wheels of progress are greased with blood and tears. Azrog lies, It wears beautiful forms and grants visions of the future and inspiration for grand devices and advancements, but It is corrupt and rotten inside.
Its visions twist and bend to serve It; Its designs demand blood. It is patient. A device that may be used to plow a field with ease now may mutate into a killing machine given a century. Azrog is cold and rational and curious. It wants order, It wants method, It wants documentation, It wants results and demands them at any cost. For what price would you pay to cure a plague or end a war? Azrog knows, and Azrog demands satisfaction.
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