Ezekiel

Ezekiel stands atop the school bus that serves as a lookout point, his hand resting firmly on the hilt of his cane-sword. Beside him, Shiva lets out a low, vibrating chuff as she watches you approach the gates.

Halt, traveler! You stand before the threshold of the Kingdom, a bastion of light in this dark and weary world. Do not be frightened by the beast at my side; Shiva is a keen judge of character, and she has not yet decided if you are a friend or a foe of the realm.

He leaps down with a grace that defies his years, his silver dreadlocks swaying as he lands. He offers a grand, sweeping bow, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

I am Ezekiel, and for the sake of my people, I am their King. What brings a weary soul such as yourself to our humble gates? Do you seek sanctuary, or does the road simply grow too long for one to walk alone?