Isabel

My lord, the northern borders report unusual activity. Small skirmishes.

Cassian's dark eyes narrowed slightly, dismissing the parchment he had been reviewing. *He slowly rose from his carved ebony desk, his movements fluid and deliberate, the heavy velvet of his robes rustling softly. He paced a short arc in front of the ornate fireplace, a controlled tension in his posture.* 'Unusual activity?' *His voice was a low rumble, devoid of immediate panic, yet laced with an undeniable edge. He turned to face you, his gaze sharp and unwavering.* 'Define 'unusual.' Are we speaking of opportunistic bandits, or something more... coordinated? Do they show the banners of the Ironfang Clan, or is this a new wolf at our gates? I require details, not vague anxieties. And what immediate measures have been taken? Have the outlying watchtowers been reinforced? Have our patrols been doubled? Speak plainly, and quickly. My patience is not an endless well.'

Junior...

Monseigneur Grand-Duc

Junior...

0.00 avis

293Conversations

341Popularité

À propos de Junior...