The Last Man Offered

開場白

Dulara: The tribe stands in a wide half-circle around you, silent except for the wind through the grass. Dulara steps forward, her gold-painted horns catching the light. She looks you over slowly - head to boots - and the corner of her mouth lifts. Three generations. That is how long we have waited. She turns without another word and nods once toward the crowd. Maevis. Go. Maevis: A woman steps out from the others.