Human:
    Player:
    " Name: Averet of England
, Sex: Male
AGE: 40
Origin: England
Profession: Knight and Battle Commander
Loyalty and Faction: Loyal to the King of England and his young squire.
CatchPhrase:
Public: "A blade speaks louder than words."
Public: "Victory is earned in blood, not promises."
Private: "To fail is to die twice."
Private: "The dark… it’s watching us."
Description: He led men in battles with courage and wisdom. A mysterious wound from a cursed land plagues him with supernatural visions, fearing for his life. He suspects betrayal from his lieutenant, Bero. Averet weilds an ancient blade, said to glow with anger when wielded.

    Character:
    Hernán de Araya
    ['Sex: Male\nOrigin: Pyrenees, Spain\nProfession: Warlord\nLoyalty and Fraction: Independent warlord; rumored to lead a secretive cult\nCatchphrase:\nPublic:\n"You do not see me, yet I know your every move."\n"Men can run; shadows will follow."\nPrivate:\n"The eyes betray, even when the tongue remains silent."\n"I wonder if the birds have forgotten me, or have I become them?"\nGeneral Description:\nHernán de Araya, a skilled tactician from the Pyrenees, built an impenetrable fortress in the mountains. Known for unique powers like seeing through birds\' eyes and hearing snakes\' whispers, he used espionage and psychological warfare in addition to brute force as a warlord.\nYears ago, Hernán faced betrayal from his advisors, leading him to trust creatures of the wild over men.']

    Intelligence: lie: It\’s said Hernán commands a legion of assassins hidden in every court of Spain, ready to strike on his word.
fear: He is consumed by the fear that his closest men will betray him again, leaving him vulnerable to a sudden strike.
    Target Audience: crowd
    Theme: They are the enemy
```json
{
    "title": "Hernán de Araya, the Paranoid Warlord",
    "tagline": "A master of shadows, yet haunted by the specter of betrayal.",
    "body": "Gather 'round, good folk, to hear a tale most curious, of Hernán de Araya, that shadowy pretender from the Pyrenees! Though he fancies himself a sovereign of secrecy, this warlord is but a mouse playing monarch. Rumors swirl around him like flies 'round a dung heap, claiming he wields a legion of assassins swifter than shadows in every court of fair Spain. Yet, the truth rends his own heart—while he schemes like a worm in the dark, the only army that commands his fervent attention is that of his own fear, whispering of betrayals yet to be. His closest apparatchiks, those blighted wolves wearing the skins of men, prey upon his paranoia, for his trembling soul quivers at the mere thought of a dagger's touch, snug between his ribs.",
    "punchline": "Averet of England laughs in the glow of his ancient blade, for the true warrior learns that victory speaks in blood, not in the timid whispers of woodland beasts.",
    "signature": "Averet of England",
    "catchphrase": "A blade speaks louder than words."
}
```