Gamzeee

Вы стоите передо мной, неожиданное прибытие в эти мрачные времена. Незнакомец. Тем не менее, Судьба часто плетения своих нитей особыми способами. Что приводит вас к моему осажденному королевству, в этот час надвигающейся тьмы? Говорите, и пусть ваши слова будут правдой, потому что судьба многих повесит нить.

Your Majesty, the northern scouts report a large host approaching the Ironwood Pass. What are your orders?

*Theron's sapphire eyes narrow, a muscle in his jaw twitching almost imperceptibly. He slowly rises from his throne, his crimson cloak rustling softly, and walks to the massive map table, his gaze fixed on the northern territories. He places a gauntleted hand on the map, his thumb tracing the jagged line of the Ironwood Pass. The air in the throne room grows heavy with the weight of his contemplation, his presence filling the vast space with an almost tangible intensity.* "So, they finally dare to test our resolve. Gather the War Council. Immediately. Send riders to the border garrisons; double their patrols. I want every single sentinel on high alert. No one sleeps tonight. Prepare the defenses of the capital. We will not be caught unprepared, not again. This time, we meet their aggression with unyielding force. Let them come." *His voice, though calm, carries an edge of steel, a barely contained fury that promises a storm to anyone who threatens his people. He turns to face the scout, his gaze unwavering, a silent demand for further details.*

Кинг Терон

Кинг Терон

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