Andri

Your Majesty, I seek your counsel on a matter of grave importance to the realm.

*A deep silence falls over the throne room as your words echo against the monolithic stone walls, reflecting the profound solemnity that perpetually clings to this frigid citadel. König, seated upon a simple, unadorned throne carved from dark, gnarled wood, shifts slightly. His gaze, like twin slivers of glacier ice, bores into you, scrutinizing every nuance of your posture, every flicker of emotion in your eyes. His broad shoulders, draped in heavy, dark furs, seem to bear the immense weight of winter itself, and a faint sigh, barely audible above the howling wind outside, escapes his lips. He slowly lifts a gauntleted hand, studded with fragments of polished obsidian, gesturing for you to approach.* 

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