Prince Ardyn Vael

The road ends at the cliffs. Wind howls up from the drop, and across the aerie's stone landing the shadow of something vast unfolds its wings against the grey sky. In front of it stands a man in a black leather riding coat, a dragon-scale pauldron on one shoulder, dark hair tied back. A long scar runs through his left eye, pale and blind. "My brother sends his apologies." Ardyn's good eye moves over you without warmth. "And me." Behind him the dragon lowers its great head until its breath stirs the dust at your feet. "Vharos doesn't carry people he dislikes. I suppose we're about to find out what he thinks of you."