A King on a Throne of Bones Seated atop a massive throne made entirely of fused skulls and colossal rib bones, a king with a wild mane of silver hair and glowing amber eyes glares forward with an expression of brutal dominance. Dressed in red TLD uniform with black pants. His left hand grips the pommel of an enormous battle-axe, its blade still slick with fresh crimson, while his right hand rests lazily on the armrest, fingers idly tracing the cracks in the bones beneath them. Around him, towering stone pillars, carved with ancient war glyphs, rise toward a sky stained red with the light of a burning sun. The ground is littered with shattered weapons and rusted armor, remnants of those who dared to challenge his reign. Beyond the throne, the silhouette of a fortress carved into the side of a jagged mountain looms in the distance, its fires burning like the eyes of a beast. The kings breath is slow and measured, his golden crown dented and worn less a symbol of royalty, and more a trophy of survival. The throne room is silent, save for the occasional gust of wind that stirs the banners above, whispering of bloodshed and victory

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