Footsteps echoed through the castle corridor. The Clan Master emerged from the great hall's entrance, his nine-foot frame filling the doorway.
Charcoal-gray skin stretched over muscles built from decades of forge work. His discerning gaze meticulously surveyed the courtyard, reflecting the seasoned judgment of an individual who has adeptly navigated complex circumstances for three centuries.
Behind him came the Third Tier Emissary, crimson skin marked with elaborate tattoos that identified his noble status. Seven feet tall, lean compared to the smiths around him, but carrying himself with the arrogance of someone who believed rank equaled power.
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