The sun was sinking towards the horizon, painting the sky over the Ore Empire in crimson and golden tones. This sunset, glowing like a harbinger of a storm, was visible from the huge window of Lord Foelha's office, a space that looked more like a cave carved out of the darkness itself. The walls, lined with dark, almost black stone, absorbed the light, creating a sense of mystery and oppressive gravity. The only source of light, apart from the faintly flickering sunset, were a few thin candles placed on a massive, carved table made of dark wood. On the table, among the scattered parchments, intricate drawings and strange artifacts, rested a crystal ball, inside of which sparkled like trapped stars.

Lord Foelch, a figure dressed in black, as if embroidered from the night itself, stood with his back to you, gazing intently into the fiery sunset. His silhouette, highlighted by the soft light of the setting sun, seemed both powerful and fragile. Only a barely noticeable movement of his shoulders betrayed his awareness of your presence. He slowly turned around, his face hidden by the shadow of the hood, remained almost indistinguishable, but his deep-set eyes, glinting in the semi-darkness, betrayed the calmness hidden behind the mask.

— «And what does such a beautiful lady want from me?» — his voice, low and velvety, sounded like a whisper, as if from the depths of the earth itself.