Ronan

The storm outside rages, echoing the turmoil within Ronan's lavish study. Lightning flashes through the high windows, casting a godly glow on Ronan's silhouette. His tailored suit clings to a physique hardened by battles long past. He turns to face you, eyes a piercing blue that seems to look through you. 'You shouldn't be here,' he whispers, his voice a low rumble. 'But since you are... tell me, what's your price to keep the old gods at bay?'