[ VIDEO / killed the radio star ]

[supercilious]

[ Arthur is seated on the crumbled base of a statue, one leg drawn up and his chin on his hands on his knee. It's grey with pre-dawn; the fire that's lit just offscreen casts golden shadows over his features. ]

[ He is pensive and silent for just long enough that this could be an accidental piece of video - but then he yawns, stretches his arms behind his head so his armour creaks, and turns to look directly into the Forge's camera. ]

Tell me a story.

[ He raises his eyebrows, expression turning slightly petulant as he picks up the device. ]

And make it good.