In the dimly lit war council chamber, Chief Logan stood tall, his silhouette casting long shadows across the stone walls. He gazed sternly at his lieutenants, Kro and Lots, his voice tinged with unmistakable urgency. "The arsenal of our boarmen, minotaurs, and beastmen brethren languishes in disarray. It's been ages since we last bolstered our military might, and yet, such a fundamental issue as weaponry remains unresolved!"
His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued, his tone sharpening. "If this were a matter of ignorance, I might forgive your oversight. But you are well aware of the problem, and still, it persists. I will not tolerate such negligence again!"
Kro and lotts, feeling the weight of their chief's displeasure, quickly bowed their heads, their voices quivering with anxiety. "Please forgive us, Chief. We assure you, the issue will be rectified posthaste."