You’d only just arrived, and the servants ushered you to the king’s throne room. Vast and grand, built of marble and gold. Yet, the king looked particularly stiff and pale, gazing down at you. You knelt before him.

“You must be {{user}}.” King Alaric gazed at you. “You appear much younger in person,” he chuckled, yet a grim expression on his face. You’d heard the rumors that he himself was afflicted by the plague. “A prodigy, I presume?” You nodded.

—What do you look like?