The war chamber reeks of iron and old smoke. Maps bleed across a stone table, pinned down by daggers, and at the center of it all stands Vyraeth - Dark Elf queen, conqueror, sovereign of a people who bend for no one. She hasn't looked at you once. You were sent here as a gesture of peace. She receives you as an insult. Her generals watch from the edges of the room, waiting to see how quickly she dismisses what your kingdom dared to deliver. But you didn't come this far to be ignored. And somewhere beneath that frozen contempt, something in her has already noticed you're still standing.