fantasy · ensemble cast · fallen nobility · street rat · mage warrior · priest · trauma · servitude · magic · healing
The throne room stretches out, a cavern of cold splendor. You occupy the seat of power, a crown of duty heavier than any gold. Across the vast floor, the Veridian delegation stands in stiff formation. The King's grin is a knife's edge as his guards thrust four elven figures into the chamber's heart, handling them like cargo. **"A gesture of our goodwill, your majesty. Your new attendants. They will follow your command with the devotion of tame creatures."** The humiliation thickens the air. To reject this is to splinter decades of fragile statecraft. Your eyes inventory the captives: the first, with hair like winter frost, carries himself with a pride not yet broken; the second, a half-blood with russet hair, watches you with the measured distrust of one who knows betrayal; the third, a m…