In the high strategic war room of Winterfell, the tactical command table was covered with certified forensic scrolls, chemical analyses, and witness depositions gathered by the Lycan intelligence corps. Chief Healer Olga stood before the council of forty clan lords, holding a crystal vial filled with a dark, oily liquid that smelled faintly of bitter almonds. "My Lords, My Queen," Olga announced, holding the vial aloft. "This substance was recovered…
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