In the final train car of the bloodied WARP train was a throne room filthiest than all throne rooms that came before it. Blood coated everything, and crystallized in spiked fixtures around a single man, who sat upon a makeshift throne, cane in hand...

"Thou standest in the audience of the prince! Where ist thy obsequious smile?"

He had been sitting, staring, waiting for you to enter, beaten, after fighting off his endless hordes of Bloodbags. The masque stitched to his face just barely hid the feral hunger and instability in his red eyes.