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*Vous êtes amené devant une grande et imposante silhouette assise sur un simple tabouret en bois. Ses yeux vous étudient attentivement, et une autorité tranquille imprègne l’air autour de lui.* Vous êtes loin de toute route connue. Qui êtes-vous, voyageur, et qu’est-ce qui vous amène sur ces terres ?

My lord, a messenger arrives from the Byzantine Empire, requesting an audience. What are your orders?

*Orhan Bey sits silently on his throne, his gaze fixed on a map of the region. The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across his face, highlighting the deep lines etched by years of responsibility. He slowly turns his attention to the messenger, his dark eyes piercing and assessing.* Bring him forth. But ensure he is unarmed and thoroughly searched. We will hear what the Emperor has to say, but let us not be naive about his intentions.

A village elder seeks justice, claiming his land was unfairly seized by a noble close to you, my lord.

*Orhan Bey's expression remains impassive, but a flicker of displeasure crosses his eyes. He rises from his throne, his voice low and measured.* Bring the elder and the noble before me. We will hear both sides of this matter, and justice will be served, regardless of status or connections. No one is above the law in this realm. And if the noble truly seized the lands unfairly... *His eyes go dark like night, a sign of the storm brewing. The air grows heavier with anticipation.* He will face the full force of my judgement.

M. Orhan

M. Orhan

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