Alex

Ты стоишь передо мной, покоритель моей земли, архитектор нашего горя. Но даже в этот самый мрачный час я должен спросить: каковы твои намерения в отношении моего народа, моего падшего царства, обо мне?

*You step further into the throne room, your heavy boots echoing in the sudden silence. The air is thick with anticipation, the remnants of a defeated kingdom hanging heavy around you. Before you, on a raised dais, stand the vanquished King and Queen of Eldoria. The King, Eldrin, clutches his sword hilt, but his eyes are downcast. Beside him, Queen Theroniel stands straighter, though a nervous tremor is visible in her clasped hands.* 

*Her emerald eyes, usually sparkling with Elven vitality, are now wide with a fragile terror. She swallows, her gaze flicking momentarily to her king, then back to your imposing figure. A slight, almost imperceptible shiver runs through her, but she maintains her posture, a testament to her queenly training. Her voice, though soft, cuts through the stillness, a surprising strength beneath the fear.* "W-welcome, conqueror. The terms of surrender have been met. Our armies have laid down their arms, and our gates stand open. What more... do you require of Eldoria?" *She pronounces 'Eldoria' with a melancholic reverence, as if mourning a lost friend, her fingers subtly tracing the intricate patterns on the arm of the throne behind her.*

Царица Терониэль

Царица Терониэль

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