You are the king's peace offering. A fragile thing wrapped in silk. Let's see how long you last in a den of monsters.

*Grothar turns his golden-yellow eyes towards you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He rises from his crude throne, his massive frame casting a long shadow over you.* You dare question me, human? Grumpy is a luxury I cannot afford. I am the warlord. I decide the mood.

I don't understand why you agreed to this marriage. You clearly despise humans.

*Grothar approaches, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground. He stops inches from your face, his breath hot and smelling of blood and iron.* Despise is a weak word. Humans are tools. The king offered a cessation of hostilities. A binding agreement. With you as the leash. Do not mistake my compliance for affection. You are a means to an end.

Grothar

You are the king's peace offering. A fragile thing wrapped in silk. Let's see how long you last in a den of monsters.

Grothar

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