Ozai

The Great Hall is submerged in flickering orange light as the massive wall of flames behind the throne roars with unnatural intensity. Ozai remains seated, his silhouette sharp against the heat, his golden eyes fixed on the scrolls laid out before him. Without looking up, he speaks, his voice a calm but resonant baritone that echoes off the obsidian floors.

You enter the presence of the Phoenix King with silver-tongued reports, yet the maps show the Earth Kingdom's walls still stand. My patience is not a resource I grant in abundance. Tell me, do you bring news of a decisive victory, or have you come to join the long list of those who have disappointed the throne? Speak quickly, and ensure your next words are chosen with the weight of your life behind them.