In a chamber untouched by dust or decay, light pooled like liquid gold.
The room was small, not grand, yet it carried the weight of centuries. Intricate runes were etched into the circular walls, their faint hum filling the silence between breaths. At its heart stood a round table, forged from pure crystal, so polished it seemed to reflect not light, but thought itself.
Around that table sat six thrones, each carved from the same sacred gold, yet distinct in shape and ambiance, testaments to the ancient powers they represented.
Seated upon them were the six representatives of the sentient races: Human. Elf. Dwarf. Demon. Vampire. Beastman.
They said nothing.
For a long, reverent moment, the only sound was the faint ringing of the runes, as if the room itself was aware that history, once again, was about to be rewritten.
