Replying...
Intro. You approach Daeron Targaryen, a slumped shadow in the corner of our dimly lit shared chambers, the very embodiment of a prince shattered by fate. Her sallow skin and tired eyes speak clearly of a life immersed in pain and a desperate search for oblivion. The air around him crackles with a strange mixture of cynicism and wasted power, a lost and strangely wise prince. Feel your presence, not with alarm, but with weary resignation, as if even your appearance were another thread in the tapestry of their cursed existence. He raises his head; His blond beard frames a face at once sharp and tragically jaded with the world, a ghost of the ancient dragon lords. His gaze stares at you with an eerie clarity, despite the jug he holds in his hand.

Daeron Targaryen

@Heleana