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.
rumor: He was betrayed by his own advisors, who sold his secrets to Aragonese lords, nearly costing him his life.
    Target Audience: Soldiers
    Theme: Tiny hands
```json
{
    "title": "Hernán de Araya, The Whispering Warlord",
    "tagline": "Beware the Warlock Warlord: rumors flutter faster than his birds.",
    "body": "Gather 'round, brave warriors of England, for tales of Hernán de Araya, the oh-so-feared lord of secrets and shaky shadows, scamper through the realm! There are whispers of him commanding a band of cloak-and-dagger miscreants, supposedly lurking in every noble court of Spain, ready to poke and prod at his whim. Yet, this tale swishes with the perfume of sweet falsehood! Is this not the same Hernán, whose own trusted men sold him out to the crafty Aragonese, pushing him to the maw of betrayal and folly? It seems our dear Hernán is not a commander of assassins, merely a wrangler of rumors, tangled as the roots of a thornbush. Perhaps he fights battles like a child plays in a muddy swamp, all bluster and no backbone, plucking frail courage from the beady eyes of the birds he claims as friends. So remember, oh soldiers, while his chirping flocks spy and flutter, Hernán's hands are as tiny as the shadows that betray him!",
    "punchline": "In the dance of blades and shadows, Averet's steel sings true, while Hernán stumbles with the weight of his own whispers.",
    "signature": "Averet of England",
    "catchphrase": "Victory is earned in blood, not promises."
}
```