[Pardon our mess. Typewriters may have existed in Hieron once, but certainly not within the past few generations. This technologically useless man rapidly accidentally posts several times, twice with text, once with blank audio, and twice more with some quick flashes of a dark-haired man's face squinting at the camera, looking exasperated with either himself or unknowable technology. Likely both.
After a few minutes pass and it seems like he may have given up, a steady stream of video settles at last. The man takes a moment to figure out it's sending something out, seeing the playback. Alright. He can work with this. Maybe.
Now that the image is steady, everyone can clearly see an image of a heavily armored, very large man, who might look imposing if he didn't look like he felt so out of his depth. He has dark skin and dark, short hair, greying at the temples -- he could be around 50 -- and a white wolf fur cloak hangs from his shoulder, with golden patterns emblazoned on his armor in a symbol of the sun.
I am Hadrian, Sword of Samothes, Defender of the Undying Fire, Officer of the Order of Eternal Princes. I am a paladin of the church of Velas. Ah, from the surface. I came to the Buoy with Exarch Alyosha as well as some companions of mine, but, uh... we've separated, some intentionally, some not that intentional. I don't know if I'm still in the lighthouse, but since I've found in my possession what might be a communication device... Or just a toy. I can't be sure either way. It must be pre-Erasure...
Um. Anyway. [Ahem.] I imagine I must still be in the Buoy. If... our Lord is still... No. I must have lost the opportunity. [Hadrian's eyes wander as he gets lost in thought for a second. When he catches himself, he clears his throat once more.]
Sorry. A lot has happened lately. I'm sure we all have plenty on our minds. If someone could point me in the direction of the Topgallant, or at least back to the main city, please. If there's no way back, then... I guess I'll just have to contend with that once it happens.