In the distance, ominous dark clouds gathered and churned, their foreboding shadows stretching across the land like the fingers of a colossal hand. A deep rumble echoed through the air, heralding the intensifying storm. Amidst the deluge, the sky was illuminated by irregular forks of lightning, their stark white brilliance painting the world in a harsh light. Each flash was followed by a deafening crack of thunder, a mighty roar that shook the very foundations of the land.
The knights of the Sandwall waited near the Western wall, atop the cliff, anticipating an attack from the western side. Adorned in lightweight armor and wielding nimble blades, they were eager for the battle.
However, the stormy rain had reduced visibility to such an extent that they could not see the bottom of the cliff, let alone the distant lands from where the cannibal army could emerge and launch an attack.
