It was a shadow of its former self. Fitting considering its present occupant. The only light emanated from a crystal that sat haphazardly in a brazier behind her high backed chair, itself a ruin, rotting away. She turned back to the disembodied heads before her. The sound of rippling water was omnipresent and irritating, but it was a safe method for contacting her servants. The eight of them ‘sat’ down on either side of the dining table that had not seen true life in over a millennia of disuse. It said something about the craftsponyship of its creators that it had stood this long.