I listened intently as Elder Rowan described the political landscape of this world.
The four factions and the mysterious central power were new elements I hadn't originally included in my story.
"These factions," I pressed, "how do they treat the common people? Are they benevolent rulers or oppressors?"
Elder Rowan's expression was grim.
"It varies. Some are harsher than others, but none could be called truly benevolent. The people in their territories live in fear, always at the mercy of their whims."
Anouz's eyes narrowed. "And your village? Which faction controls this area?"
"We are in a disputed zone," the elder explained. "On the border between the territories of the Iron Fist and the Whispering Shadows. Neither has fully claimed us yet, but we live in constant fear of the day they do."
I nodded, taking in this information. It was clear that this world was more complex and dangerous than I had initially designed.
