Vladimir stood seeing those around him as the great dragon spoke. he locked his jaw beneath his mask in grim determination preparing to seal his fate upon the throne. the dragon faced him and described the great Dragon of Death, he stared back through the glass lenses in his mask. being this close to a true dragon filled his mind with fear. he knew that the dragon would not kill him without cause, probably, but the primal core of his mind screamed for him to run and hide. Vladimir kept himself calm through sheer force of will, and the memory of the Dragon's mention of Immortality if he should succeed. the comfort of safety from that eternal sleep.

Vladimir turns and finds the Throne of Death, constructed from clean bleached bone and what appeared to be a small dragon's skull built above the head where it would be visible over the one who sits there. he reaches out before he sits down touches the skull and feels the spark, the sensation would be impossible to describe in any words Vladimir knew. 'My fate has been sealed, I have become Death. Shepard of the dead.' he considers for a moment and takes his seat. As he does, the portal opens before him.