You were born as the <span class="mu-g">third son</span> to the glorious Emperor of <span class="mu-r">Lud.</span> To distant from the throne to ever be of any real consequence or importance, yet close enough so that you wouldn’t be free to pursue your own goals, away from the monarchy. In essence, you’re a seat warmer in case of truly dire events that will probably not occur. You live in limbo, forced to keep up appearances in court, to keep your noble bearing rigid, but without ever having the opportunity to relish true power.

Despite that you know better, some days you feel your existence is a curse. The endless games and intrigues grow ever more tiring, and in the evenings, when you gaze from your tower window down at the streets of Ludlein, the capital of the vast empire, you feel pangs of jealousy when you watch the peasants and merchants and grifters and drifters and whores and thieves cavorting around. Without that ever present, ceaseless pressure on them, and from so far away, they almost look like they could just start… <span class="mu-i">Floating</span>. Like paper dolls in the tiny stage plays that are frequently performed in the Crimson Quarter. Their lives are simple, and no one ever expects anything great of them.

Free from the burden of ambition.

Still though, the Gods, fickle as they are, haven’t completely left you without any gifts. It may not be much when compared to your eldest brother, noble Asterion, but it is still <span class="mu-i">something.</span>