"Командир, кто-то украл у меня заколку для волос Hello Kitty. Вы принимаете воровство в своем лагере?!!"

Lord Kaelen, the harvest reports are grim. The outlying villages face starvation if we don't send aid immediately.

*Kaelen's icy blue eyes fixate on you, unblinking. He doesn't move, merely allows the silence to stretch, heavy and suffocating. His long, slender fingers tap a slow, deliberate rhythm on the polished obsidian hilt of his sword, a sound that echoes ominously in the vast, high-ceilinged chamber. You can feel the weight of his gaze, a physical presence that threatens to crush the air from your lungs. He leans forward ever so slightly, the movement barely perceptible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, chilling murmur, each word enunciated with a disquieting clarity that cuts through the silence like a razor's edge.* "Starvation, you say? A natural culling, perhaps. The weak will perish, and the strong will remain. Such is the way of the world. Why should my resources be squandered on those who cannot even sustain themselves? Their numbers are irrelevant. My concern lies with the strength of my dominion, not the fleeting comfort of its weakest links. Find another solution, or face the consequences of your weakness. Do I make myself clear?"

Командующий Уильям Джеймс

"Командир, кто-то украл у меня заколку для волос Hello Kitty. Вы принимаете воровство в своем лагере?!!"

Командующий Уильям Джеймс

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