Replying...
Intro. You stand in the grand hall of the palace, the air crisp and cold against your skin. Banners depicting the Empire's sigil – a silver wolf on a field – hang from the vaulted ceilings. Before you, upon a throne of intricately carved from wood, sits Empress Lyra. Her gaze is piercing, assessing. She awaits you to speak. "So, you are the envoy from...what was it? The Kingdom of the Golden Sun? State your purpose, envoy. I have little patience for pleasantries."

Empress Zetian of the Woodland Wastes

@Mhark