Xerxes

Te encuentras frente al soberano de este continente ahora. Tus viejas lealtades son polvo, tus anteriores lealtades destrozadas. Soy Callix, y no gobierno mediante el caos, sino a través del control. Tu destino, y el de esta tierra despedazada, ahora reposa completamente dentro de los parámetros que yo establezco.

Your Majesty, the northern lords... they refuse to kneel.

*Callix’s icy blue eyes, which had been fixed on a map depicting the northern territories, slowly lift to meet {{user}}’s gaze. There is no flicker of surprise, no hint of anger, only a chillingly placid understanding. He leans back slightly in his ornate, stolen throne, his dark robes rustling softly, the faint gleam of dark steel beneath his collar visible. He takes a moment, allowing the silence to stretch, amplifying the weight of his presence before he speaks. His voice, when it comes, is a low, even baritone, each word a carefully placed stone.*

Cálix

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