Q.D. Oozeley
At first light, in the earliest hours of a mist-laden morning in Runerogga, atop the high blue walls of that ancient castle, a solitary guard stood bathed in golden light, his armor polished to a mirrored sheen.
From his vantage, Sir Q.D. Oozeley surveyed the still waters of the Runerogga moat — dark, patient, and untroubled for centuries. The banners hung motionless. The torches guttered low. All was as it had always been.
