Cain and Barock followed closely behind him, their faces tense with silent anticipation. Hardened warriors, they nonetheless sensed the strange energy lingering in the fortress. Cliff, however, remained impassive, his confidence unshaken.
As he ascended the stone steps leading to the observation tower, Cliff's mind was racing. These "refugees" gathered at his gates were more than they appeared. He felt the shadow of betrayal, likely at the highest levels. Every encounter since his return flashed through his mind. Alliances, intrigues… none of it was accidental. Someone had orchestrated this situation.
Once at the top, he stopped, resting his hand on the cold stone railing as he observed the crowd below. The torches cast flickering light over the sea of faces stretching before him. From this height, they seemed tiny, insignificant.
