On the 25th Vult, 999 YK, Sora Katra gave the following speech to the assembled delegates.
"None of you have met me before, yet all of you know me. I was with you in your bed when your parents told you story of the Sleeping Prince, and scared you into good behaviour with tales of the curses I weave on my loom. I spent my youth in the Shadow Marches, but I also spent it walking among you. Every time one of you told a story of my exploits, be it a tale of weal or woe, you brought me to your door and invited me in."
Her shadowed figure seems to change slightly, in a way that is difficult to really put your finger on. You're aware of movement but it's like it's just outside of your vision, in the periphery.
"We live in a world of illusions, a world of hidden faces and hidden fiends, a world filled with changelings and the artistry wrought by the gnomes of Zilargo. I have worn a thousand faces and more in my life, as each story calls for something new, something special. We have long known each other, you and I, and yet this is the first time we have ever truly met. I wish for you to see who I am, to remember that first story and the terror it quickened in your breast, and yet be welcome in my hall."
As she finishes speaking, she steps back and fully into the light, and a gasp passes through the assembled envoys. The figure standing before you is out of your nightmares, and though you don't know it in the moment, each of you sees something different. Sora Katra looks exactly as each of you expect her to look, an image composed of your preconceptions and fears, of how you imagined her when you heard stories of her deeds. She's an old woman, her skin and flesh withered, but her movements are smooth and graceful and she stands tall. She's wearing a cloak of black feathers over a black silk robe, held in place by a belt made of finger bones. Her own fingers are unnaturally long, and each one is tipped with a raven-like talon.
"Yes, we know each other, you and I."
and she slowly turns around the room, as if to make eye contact with each and every person.
"But do you know this place, this land? Do you really understand where you are, and why?"
Sora Katra raises her right hand, and a medusa appears at her side. It's most likely an illusion, but most of the delegates hurry to avert their eyes. She then raises her left hand, and a troll steps into the light, holding a human child in one clenched fist, and there is a gasp of horror as the troll lifts the child to its mouth and takes a bite.
"For a little under a thousand years you claimed this land as part of the Kingdom of Galifar, but it was never truly yours. You have numbers, discipline, ingenuity; your nations have crafted wonders over the centures, yet you have always feared what you don't understand, and ostracised those with powers you couldn't control. The medusa and their petrifying gaze, the troll and their gift to spurn your steel. You've spent centuries fighting monsters, slaughtering them whenever you could, and pushing them into the fringes when you couldn't. You carved out your peaceful sanctuary, but you never drove the horrors from this land, from Droaam. Occasionally your heroes would cross the Graywall hoping to make a legend, but we all know how many of those returned."
She lowers her hands, and the images around her vanish, but there is still something lurking in the shadows just beyond your sight.
"Just over a century ago, you tore your kingdom of Galifar apart. You have spent the last one hundred years killing one another in increasingly inventive and horrifying ways, and the sense of community and belonging that held you together is lost. It is tragic, but as your peoples squandered the work of a thousand years, we built something new."
She raises her hands again, and she seems to be flanked by an army of ogres and trolls, even more fearsome than you one she showed before. These are fully equipped, clad in plate armour and wielding colossal weapons.
"My sisters and I each have our strengths. I am the voice. Sora Teraza, the vision, and Sora Maenya is our bloodied fist. Alone, we are each of us terrifying, but together we are far more, and that is the lesson we brought to this place. Harpy, medusa, troll—all of them creatures that you have feared and shunned. Together, they could be a power this world has never seen. Every fear your people have, standing side by side and using their remarkable gifts in ways they, and you, never would've considered."
As she lowers her hands this time, the army becomes replaced with a community. Peoples of all kinds are represented in the illusion, harpies, medusa, trolls, minotaurs, gargoyles. Even mundane looking animals are amongst the crowd, all of them going about their day and contributing to their shared vision.
"This is where you are now, this is Droaam. An alliance of all those you have feared and shunned, of all those you pushed into the fringes of Khorvaire. Five years ago, we came to you and we asked that you recognise our sovereignty. All of you dismissed us. You had greater concerns, like which nation could lay claim to Thaliost or whether or not you could continue to treat warforged as property, and no interest in the savages of the west. Surely we would turn on each other within the year, or perhaps mighty Breland would finally take it upon itself to eliminate us once and for all."
"Yet we stand. Five years have passed since the signing of the Treaty of Thronehold, and we are still here. We are stronger than you ever could've imagined, and we only grow stronger by the day. We are the nightmare of humanity, and so you have come to answer our call, to see for yourselves what power we truly have. Some of you have come from fear, others curiosity. See the mistake that you made years ago. Ignore us, insult us, and this is what awaits you."
She raises her hands again, and the perspective seems to shift. What initially seems to be an ocean is quickly revealed to be an unfathomable army, lines of gnolls, minotaurs, trolls, ogres, all manner of creature. The skies above the vast horde teem with wyverns and manticores. There are gasps from the audience, and then the illusion fades to reveal Sora Katra once more.
"Droaam is the terror that has lingered in the shadows since your civilisations began. Yet we did not destroy your glorious kingdom, you did that yourselves. We are an easy target for your fear, and I have added tinder to that flame, but it is time you saw the world as it is, to set aside your primal superstitions."
She gestures and her spotlight dissipates, the faerie lights floating and spotlighting all of the warlords of Droaam seated throughout the room. You see several that you have already met, Zaeurl, Drul Kantar, Tzaryan Rrac, Gorodan Ashlord, and several that you haven't met yet. A large gargoyle, a kobold, a troll, a tiefling, a medusa.
"The Ashlord's size may intimidate you, but did he slaughter the innocents of Vathirond? Was it Tzaryan Rrac that laid waste to Shadukar and cursed the ruins? Was it Queen Sheshka that caused so much violent death that it resulted in the Crying Fields? We may be different from you, but we are no more or less evil than any of you in this room. Now is your chance to see that, to truly see that, and to embrace it. Set aside your fears and your prejudices. Accept Droaam as a sovereign state under the terms of the Treaty of Thronehold. Accept us as equals and allies, and think of the world we could all build together. We offer you this second chance, and we are willing to forget the insult done to us five years ago. Do not spurn us again."
The room is utterly silent, and you're not even sure that the others are breathing. When Sora Katra speaks, everybody listens.
"I'm sure you have questions. Some of you have deals to propose, others have demands to make in exchange for your support. Over the next few days you will have the opportunity to speak to my warlords, to my sisters and to myself. We will discuss the nation of Droaam and the state of your wounded kingdoms, and how we can all live together in harmony and build a better world. So let me tell you the laws of the Crag."
She raises her right hand, and an illusion of the Great Crag appears in front of her, giving you a few of the mountain and the city that you weren't able to get on the approach. There are structures built into and up the mountain, and a vast city of tents and ruins surrounds it.
"We will not tolerate violence, either against our subjects or between delegates. Each of you will have guards assigned to accompany you whenever you leave your quarters; they have been taught to speak your common tongue, which I have sought to spread across the land. Do not wander the corridors of the Crag without these escorts. This may seem rude, but I do not believe any of you would allow one of my ogres to wander through your royal palaces without guardians, and the Crag is more dangerous than any of those."
"You may not leave the interior of the Crag for any reason. Six moons will rise over Droaam tomorrow, a time we call the Midnight Dawn. It is a celebration, a festival, but our ways are not your ways and we cannot guarantee your safety should you leave this sanctuary. Should you break these rules, I wash my hands of your blood. As for those of you who have come in hopes of stealing from us or engaging in acts of sabotage, perhaps the aide to the ambassador of Karrnath can offer a word of advice."
She reaches behind her and then produces the severed head of the Karrnathi ambassadors aide, Vlastimir Perlich, the stump of the neck is jagged and rough, as if his head was torn from his head rather than cut. The eyes are glazed over and sightless, but then they roll back out of their socket and look at you all.
"My name is Vlastimir Perlich, and I came to the crag to steal from the Daughters of Sora Kell. I came seeking a powerful artifact which might serve as a weapon in the days to come. Sora Maenya caught me and ground my bones to dust, and bound my spirit to my skull so that I might have eternity to think about what I've done."
A slight smile tugs at Sora Katra's lips as she flings the severed head across the room, and it lands on the plate of the Karrnathi ambassador. The ambassador jumps to his feet, and you swear he's gone several shades paler.
"Your man is still alive, Lord Tharsul. He is merely asleep in his room, though I can't imagine he is having pleasant dreams. I would apologise for making an example of you, but you brought a spy into my court. Let this be a lesson to you all, it will not be an illusion next time. I welcome you as my friends, do not abuse my trust."
"You know where you are, and you know why you are here. You know what will happen in the days to come, and you know the rules you must obey. So now, I ask that you enjoy yourselves, indulge in the delicacies of our land. In the hours to come, you will hear the drums of the Turakbar minotaurs and the pipes of the Suthar satyrs. I had planned to give you a taste of harpy song, but in light of recent events we have set that aside. We are grateful to you for coming, and tonight is our gift to you. Enjoy it while you can."
She raises her arms again, and the sparks of light above her flow down and surround her. They grow brighter and faster, spinning in a radiant tornado, and then they burst, scattering across the chamber and restoring the light. Sora Katra is nowhere to be seen.