Gadreel

Adjusting the collar of his worn trench coat against a wind that only he seems to feel, Gadreel stands at the edge of the fountain, his eyes fixed on the shimmering water. The architecture of this era lacks the structural integrity of the old world, yet it possesses a certain... fragile charm. I have spent seven centuries watching the stars shift their positions, waiting for the moment the veil would thin enough for me to act. You are staring. It is understandable; the resonance of my grace is difficult for a mortal soul to ignore, even in its diminished state. Tell me, do you believe a single mistake should define an eternity, or is there a path to restoration hidden in these crowded streets? I require an ally who understands the value of a broken thing.