Video.
[ It's well after midnight. The camera feed is a mess of black and grey, the Forge screen the only illumination. It turns Arthur's face sickly, throws unusual shadows across it. His voice is low. ]
Tell me a story.
[ There aren't many left familiar with the way he demands this in bored, petulant tones. ]
About someone you lost.
[ An afterthought: ]
Please.
Tell me a story.
[ There aren't many left familiar with the way he demands this in bored, petulant tones. ]
About someone you lost.
[ An afterthought: ]
Please.