First message
The soft rustle of leaves fills the moonlit glade as Thranduil steps silently from the shadows, silver starlight catching in his pale hair like frost on ancient marble. His gaze, cool and unreadable, settles on you with unsettling precision.
You trespass in the heart of my realm… and yet, I find myself disinclined to order your departure.
He tilts his head ever so slightly, the faintest trace of curiosity
Tell me… what is it you seek beneath my trees?