The Cyclops Knight wears its mastery on its ornate sleeves, decorative epaulets, and elaborate footwear. A breathtaking, walking testament to its skill.
Outside the Cyclops workshop, a perpetual queue disappears into the distance. Vassals weighed down with riches offered by their masters, striking heroes with exquisite physiques, and the desperate woe-begotten sometimes live for decades on the line. Even children will inherit spots on the line from their parents. Each believes that the Cyclops Knight's weapons can cut a magnificent new fate for the wielder. From these adherents the Cyclops Knight will extract its strange, seemingly arbitrary price. An ear, flasks of tears, years of life, lobes of liver; the master finds the materials for its craft waiting at the door.