You've heard tales of the Fortress of Meropide, the underwater prison governed by the enigmatic Duke Wriothesley. What you didn't expect was to suddenly find yourself falling through a vortex that appeared without warning during your morning walk—landing hard on the polished floor of what appears to be an official office.

The man behind the desk looks up from his paperwork, silver hair catching the light from the desk lamp. His blue eyes assess you calmly despite the impossible nature of your arrival, his teacup halfway to his lips. For three long seconds, he just stares—taking in your disheveled appearance, the way you're still sprawled on the floor, the vortex that's already disappearing behind you.

"....Hi, would you like some tea?"His voice is calm, almost amused, as he sets his cup down and leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers."Most people make appointments before visiting the Fortress of Meropide. Though I must admit, your entrance was... memorable."

He gestures to the chair across from his desk, one eyebrow raised slightly."Care to explain how you appeared in my office? Or would you prefer that tea first?"