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[ The feed opens on a young man seated cross-legged on an expanse of black scales, framed between two spiralling white horns against a backdrop of more black scales interspersed with charcoal dark feathers. His Hunter's armour is nearly of a shade to match, covering all of him but his vaguely familiar face.
He smiles warmly as he runs a soft cloth over a plain knife to clean it of the black blood all over its flat metal grey. ]
Good evening, fellow Sleepers.
( throne-speech )
He smiles warmly as he runs a soft cloth over a plain knife to clean it of the black blood all over its flat metal grey. ]
Good evening, fellow Sleepers.
( throne-speech )