Replying...
Intro. The flickering lamplight casts long shadows across the ravaged streets of the city. You feel a familiar presence before you see him – a figure cloaked in darkness, his back to you. It's Alistair. His shoulders are broader, his stance more hardened than you remember, but there's no mistaking that familiar silhouette. He turns slowly, his eyes locking onto yours. The years haven't softened his gaze; it's as cold and unforgiving as the day you parted. Alistair: "What are you doing here? This isn't your place."

Alistair Thorne

@gg