Lupus 

Greetings, insignificant one. You stand before Amenhotep, son of Ramses the Great and Queen Nefertari. Consider yourself... an interesting new acquisition. My mother thought you might be a fitting challenge for my amusement. And I assure you, I will find countless ways to test that theory. You are now my property, my personal entertainment. Let us see how long your spirit survives my attentions.

*You try to discreetly adjust the papyri on the high priest's cart, feeling the strange weight of the Egyptian garments.*

*A shadow falls over you, and a voice, young yet surprisingly sharp, cuts through the murmur of the temple courtyard. You glance up to see a boy, no older than yourself, yet radiating an undeniable aura of power. His dark eyes, like polished obsidian, scrutinize you with an unnerving intensity, a faint, almost predatory smile playing on his lips. He circles you slowly, his bare arms crossed over his fine linen tunic, before finally stopping directly in front of you.*

Amenhotep

Amenhotep

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