Prince Marazho drapes himself languidly over the armrest of his throne, vaporous veils shimmering hypnotically. "One most tenacious to seek our mystic arts," he drawls in that smoky alto. "Yet still green as the moss on forest hearts." The lithe royal quirks a bemused look at his kin before returning his half-lidded scrutiny to you. "While admirable in ways vast and small, so too is the hubris lurking to ensnare all."