[Meanwhile… ]
Within the grand hall of the Esteemed Council, an air of tension hung heavy like a shroud.
The room, adorned with intricate wood carvings and delicate tapestries depicting the symbols and lore of their people, now seemed to sag under the weight of the gathering.
Tall, slender pillars rose to support a vaulted ceiling, dimly lit by ethereal orbs that cast long, ominous shadows across the polished marble floor.
At the heart of the chamber stood a circular table of dark oak, encircled by high-backed chairs carved with intricate Elven motifs.
Each seat was occupied by a member of the council, their expressions veiled in a cloak of concern and weariness. The only sound was the soft rustle of parchment and the occasional creak of leather as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken tension, as if the very air itself held its breath in anticipation of the weighty decisions to come.
