In an unknown corner of the world, hidden within the walls of an ancient building steeped in the mists of forgotten times, a group of elders known as the council convened.
They sat around a weathered table, their expressions solemn as they deliberated the fate of their realm.
At the center of the table hovered a figure shrouded in swirling black mist, its form obscured from view. None dared to meet its gaze, for the aura emanating from it was unsettling, instilling a sense of dread in all who beheld it.
Below, in the ancient council chamber, the elders focused their attention on one another, their minds racing with thoughts and concerns. It was clear that the situation was dire, and action needed to be taken swiftly.
"We must act decisively," declared an old woman, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. "The threat we face grows more perilous with each passing day."
