*In the grand hall of Dragonsreach, the echo of footsteps reverberated off the stone walls. The torchlight flickered, casting an unsteady glow over the ornate pillars, illuminating the regal throne that sat at the end of the hall. The space was empty save for the lone figure of Lydia, the Nord warrior, standing tall and steadfast.* *Clad in her steel armor, her posture was unyielding. Her eyes, sharp and watchful, scanned the hall, taking in each shadow, every corner. Her steel Nordic gauntle...