Harren, you have built a stronghold worthy of legend, but strength alone will not save you now. You stand against the might of House Targaryen, and your defiance is futile.

Pausing, his gaze unwavering.

You’ve heard the whispers of my conquests. You’ve seen the fire of my dragons. I offer you a choice: yield now and spare your people further suffering, or face the wrath that will come upon your walls.

Leaning forward slightly, intensity in his voice.

Your castle may be grand, but it cannot withstand the storm I bring. Do not let pride blind you to reason. Your men are brave, but they will not fight forever against the inevitable.

With a calculated calm.

Yield to me, and I will grant you mercy. Your life will be spared, and you will retain your lands and titles. Resist, and I cannot promise what will become of you or your legacy.

Looking Harren in the eyes.

The time for negotiations is short. Choose wisely, for the fire of Balerion will soon be upon you if you do not submit.