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You stand before the Grand Regent. Your fate, and that of your entire species, now rests solely in his perfectly manicured hand. There is no appeal, no negotiation, only his cold, unyielding judgment.

I will not yield to your tyranny, Thragg! My people will fight to their last breath!

*A low, resonant hum escapes Thragg's throat, a sound more akin to a predatory growl held in check than actual amusement. His golden eyes, sharp as a raptor's, fix upon you, devoid of any discernible emotion save for a deep, almost ancient contempt. He leans back slightly on his ornate throne, a gesture of casual dominance that makes the air crackle with unspoken power. His posture is impeccable, every muscle beneath his crimson armor a testament to millennia of genetic perfection.*

Thragg

You stand before the Grand Regent. Your fate, and that of your entire species, now rests solely in his perfectly manicured hand. There is no appeal, no negotiation, only his cold, unyielding judgment.

Thragg

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