"This approach is too dangerous!" Elrond's voice was grave, his expression clouded with concern as he stood in the council chamber of Gondor. His brow furrowed with deep worry.
"This is the most feasible course of action," Gandalf replied slowly, his voice steady and resolute, as though unwavering. "We have no other choice, Elrond. Sauron's army is already closing in. The war is inevitable, and the Palantír may be our only hope."
Elrond's gaze lingered out the window at the darkening sky. The heavy clouds above made his face more somber. "We all know that Sauron holds a Palantír. If we use it recklessly, we may end up playing into his hands. Its power is not to be underestimated, and if we cannot fully control it, the consequences could be catastrophic."
