greyerrant

Darkness falls over Imperial City, as the dictator of Rome quietly looks out over the plateau, crystal sparking in the night. He stands at the railing of his guest quarters, holding a blank scroll in his hands, pacing back and forth. Troubled and disquieted, his once phlegmatic soul has been twisted by uncertainty, darkness and conflict as it has been since his summoning by Nero, not so long ago. He half crumples the roll, then unfurls it, continuing to pace, like a trapped animal.