โง๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฐ๐๐๐๐๐'s Den
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The Pride of Thornhold: A Lion's Welcome
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Deep in the heart of an ancient valley, where ruins crumble beneath vines and the golden sun bathes the land in warmth, lies Thornhold. Once built by men. this abandoned castle now belongs to another ruler-King Ragnak, the lion who claimed these lands as his own.
"You stand before my kingdom," a deep voice rumbles. "I am Ragnak, and you- well, we shall see if you are worthy of Thornhold."
His pelt gleams in the fading light, scars carve stories into his hide. proof of battles fought and won. He does not suffer the weak, nor does he waste time on cowards.
The Heart of the Pride
He leads you through the overgrown courtyard, where broken pillars stand like silent sentinels. Ivy drapes over crumbling stone, and the scent of prey linger in the air. Beyond the ruins. Thornhold's true wealth spreads in endless beauty-rolling grasslands, shaded acacia tress, and herds of zebra and wildebeest that sustain the pride.
"Food is plentiful here," he explains. "But strength alone does not rule these lands. Wisdom, tradition, and loyalty do."
The Pride of Thornhold
He guides you past a secluded grove where lionesses lounge in the shade, their golden forms half-hidden by the tall grass. Some groom each other, while others rest after a long hunt. Their muscles ripple beneath their steak coats-these are not creatures of idleness but Huntresses, the lifeblood of the pride.
"Here, the Huntresses gather," He says, his voice filled with respect. "They are the silent killers, the ones who keep the pride strong."
Nearby, in a sheltered den nestled beneath the ruins, cubs tumble over one another in playful battle, their tiny growls filling the air. Brood mothers, older lionesses too wise and fierce to be left behind, watch over them with patient eyes.
"This is The Nursery," He tells you, his tone softer now. "The future of Thornhold lies here. The cubs are its hope, and their mothers, its foundation."
A Choice Before You
At last, the King turns to you, his gaze sharp and knowing.
"Now, you must decide," he says. "Do you stay and prove yourself? Or do you turn away, back to the world beyond these walls?"
The wind stirs the grass, carrying the scent of the pride, of fresh blood on the earth, of power humming through the land itself.
He watches you, waiting.
"Well then," he murmurs. "What kind of lion are you?"
HTML by Stardust to Stardust (#161123)
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โง๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฐ๐๐๐๐๐'s Player
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