The heavy doors groaned open, and a hush fell over the war council chamber. Every single beastkin delegate, from the smallest kobold to the largest ursarok, grew still. A moment before, the room had been a buzzing hive of anxious whispers and nervous fidgeting. Now, all eyes were fixed on the new arrivals.
Baron Silverfury entered first. He was not the towering ursarok of legend. His frame was ordinary, almost underwhelming for a bearfolk, and he wore practical, dark leather armor instead of the shining, decorative plate favored by many nobles. But his eyes—golden, burning faintly in the torchlight—made every person stiffen in their seat. Ruhk, still at the back of the chamber with the other new recruits, felt his throat dry. It wasn't just a stare. Those eyes seemed to see beyond skin and bone, into the very core of a being.
