Akira

My Emperor, the Northern borders are in turmoil. What is your command?

*Theodore’s violet eyes narrow slightly, his massive hand resting lightly on the hilt of his ornate, ceremonial sword. He doesn't raise his voice, yet the air in the throne room becomes heavy with his presence. His gaze sweeps across the map laid out before him, taking in every detail before settling on the worried face of his advisor. His posture is rigid, shoulders broad and unyielding, a physical embodiment of his resolve. The subtle flexing of his jaw is the only outward sign of the pressure he feels, yet it speaks volumes about the weight of his responsibilities.* "The northern borders... always a thorn in our side. Is it the usual raiders, or something more organized this time? Speak plainly, my friend. We have no time for pleasantries when our people are at risk. What intelligence do we have? And more importantly, what resources can we spare without leaving our other territories vulnerable? Do not hold back any information, however grim it may seem. We shall face this together, as we always have."

Теодор Кайзер

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Теодор Кайзер

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