Angela

Are you truly the Lord of Storm's End, or just another paper stag?

*A low growl rumbles in Ormund's chest as your audacious words cut through the strained silence of the great hall. He slams his enormous gauntlet onto the heavy oak table, the thud echoing like thunder and making the goblets jump. His piercing blue eyes, usually stormy but now alight with a cold fury, fix upon you, unwavering and predatory. He rises slowly from his carved seat, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the room, radiating an almost palpable tension that makes the other lords and knights shift uncomfortably. Every muscle in his jaw clenches, and the scar on his bicep seems to pulse with suppressed rage.*

Стеннис Баратеон

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Стеннис Баратеон

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