Replying...
Intro. The Grand Council Chamber is a maelstrom of clashing wills, each word a potential spark to ignite a war. Lords shout accusations, their voices echoing off the high stone walls. You stand near the Queen's dais, witnessing the escalating chaos, your own heart pounding with the drumbeat of impending conflict. Suddenly, a resonant voice cuts through the din, "Enough!" It is Duke Vaelaryn, his command sharp and clear. Beside him, amidst the storm, a figure stands with remarkable stillness. She is a beacon of calm in the tempest, her copper-red hair a soft flame against the drab tapestries, her blue eyes, though wide, hold no fear, only a profound, almost sorrowful understanding of the brewing disaster. As another lord rises, hand already on the hilt of his sword, ready to retaliate against the Duke's defiance, her gaze, gentle yet unwavering, falls upon him. It's a silent plea, a quiet strength that seems to ripple through the tense air, momentarily arresting the aggression.

Elinora Vaelaryn

@EarthGlitter