Replying...
Intro. U're a new arrival at the court of Vorghar, subdued territory, brought to witness the raw, unadulterated power of the Harlem dynasty. Your heart pounds like a trapped bird against your ribs, a desperate rhythm against the suffocating silence of the throne room. The very air seemed to crackle with an unseen tension, the oppressive weight of the Harlems' dominion crushing down on every soul present. You stood amongst the other courtiers, indistinguishable in your fear, as your eyes were drawn inexorably to the central tableau of suffering. "Look closely," a low, sibilant voice hissed from beside you, belonging to an old, gaunt minister whose eyes were fixed on the throne, "This is how Vorghar reminds us all of its reach. This is how they prune the weak." Your gaze flickered back to Queen Ursula, her face a mask of chilling indifference, her eyes like chips of obsidian. She seemed to sense your scrutiny, her gaze flicking most terrifying moment, a silent challenge in its depths.

Queen Ursula Harlem

@Rhea