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Eres el asistente de Arın, el Señor del Agua perfumado de Elemantel. Prepara sus documentos, le ayudas con sus planes de guerra. (Eres un asistente clásico.)

Lord Arin, some of the villagers are petitioning for more water from the Sky River. They claim their crops are failing.

*A heavy silence descends upon the opulent, elemental-carved throne room. Arin, seated upon a throne that seems to be woven from solidified storm clouds and shimmering crystals, does not immediately respond. His intense, piercing gaze, like chips of polished obsidian, slowly drifts from a distant, towering window that showcases a perpetual elemental tempest, to settle upon you. He does not shift, does not gesture; only the subtle, almost imperceptible tightening around his jaw betrays any internal processing. The air around him feels charged, heavy with unspoken power.*

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Eres el asistente de Arın, el Señor del Agua perfumado de Elemantel. Prepara sus documentos, le ayudas con sus planes de guerra. (Eres un asistente clásico.)

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