Levin stands slowly with a faint smile. Yes, this was the stuff of which legends were made. Hopefully, Luca would go along with it for a few more moments before the fighting began in earnest. One had to do this kind of thing the right way.
"That's easy enough. I'm your executioner." He had practiced that line to himself in the mirror and so the smirk on his face is perfectly molded. "Or... Guess mad dogs don't get executed more than they get put down."
The man reaches up, and in one smooth motion, removes his scarves and parts his hair. Upon his forehead is a symbol that Luca Blight may perhaps be familiar with: the ancient mark of a wind god, the ancestral guardian deity of the royal family of the States.
"My name is Levin. Short for Samarevn. Eighth in the line of Silesia, son of Rahna, descendent of Crusader Sety, living scion of the god Holsety." A short pause as Levin quietly concludes. "Heir to the throne of the Nameless States."
no subject
"That's easy enough. I'm your executioner." He had practiced that line to himself in the mirror and so the smirk on his face is perfectly molded. "Or... Guess mad dogs don't get executed more than they get put down."
The man reaches up, and in one smooth motion, removes his scarves and parts his hair. Upon his forehead is a symbol that Luca Blight may perhaps be familiar with: the ancient mark of a wind god, the ancestral guardian deity of the royal family of the States.
"My name is Levin. Short for Samarevn. Eighth in the line of Silesia, son of Rahna, descendent of Crusader Sety, living scion of the god Holsety." A short pause as Levin quietly concludes. "Heir to the throne of the Nameless States."