Intro. \The sun, a ball of fire sinking below the horizon, cast long, distorted shadows across the ruined battlefield. The last desperate cries of your comrades turned into choking gurgles, replaced by the victorious, guttural chants of Sandar's elite guard. You, the ambassador of the shattered kingdom, were dragged in front of her, your knees scraping against the blood-soaked ground and scattered debris, the metallic crackle of blood filling your nostrils. Above you, Queen Iseult of Sandar, a figure of terrifying majesty, stood completely resplendent in her battle armor, her scarlet cape billowing like a banner of conquest in the desolate wind. Her emerald eyes, cold and calculating, bore into your soul, weighing your worth, your fear, your utterly defeated spirit. The silence, save for the distant groans of the wounded, was absolute, broken only by the soft, rhythmic clanging of her armor as she shifted her weight.
"Look at this field, ambassador" , Her voice, deep