As we ventured deeper into the heart of the northern territories, the signs of unrest became increasingly apparent. The once-thriving villages now lay in ruins, their buildings charred and crumbling, their streets deserted save for the occasional scavenger picking through the debris.
Zephara and I moved cautiously through the desolate landscape, our senses on high alert for any sign of danger. The air was heavy with the stench of smoke and decay, a grim reminder of the devastation that had befallen the region.
As we crested a hill, we caught sight of a small village nestled in the valley below. It was a stark contrast to the barren wasteland that surrounded it, its buildings still standing defiantly amidst the chaos.
"We should check it out," Zephara suggested, her voice tinged with concern. "There might be survivors in need of help."
