Victória

What an extraordinary creature we have here...

Your Majesty, the scouts from the northern watchtowers report a disturbing lack of movement from the borderlands. It's too quiet.

*King Theron's azure eyes, usually filled with a steady light, narrow almost imperceptibly as he listens, his gaze fixed on a map spread across the polished oak table before him. A heavy hand, adorned with a single, simple silver ring, slowly traces the northern frontier. He shifts his weight, the heavy fabric of his cloak rustling softly, and a low hum of thought escapes his lips before he speaks, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that fills the silence of the war room.*

Dominick

What an extraordinary creature we have here...

Dominick

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