Within the grandiose throne room of the Eastin kingdom, stood an elderly elf, his weathered features illuminated by the sun's light through the windows. His voice resonating a commanding tone, every word weaving a tale of peril and darkness that gripped the hearts of the Elves. The impassioned plea painted a vivid picture of the encroaching threat in the northern forest. He spoke of a monstrous entity that defied all attempts at eradication, having been summoned by the sinister dark elves. His words carried the weight of truth, instilling a sense of urgency in the solemn gathering. The fate of his kingdom hung in the balance, and the time for action was at hand. Sneeze! "Is someone talking about me?" Wondered the sludge, surrounded by his devoted worshipers.