The tension within the Fortress of Edenhide had reached a fever pitch. After days of uncertainty and fruitless scouting, the long-awaited report had finally arrived. The scouts, weary and battle-hardened, rushed into the war room, their expressions grim and breathless.
Lord Merith, who had been stewing in his throne, rose to his feet with a predatory gleam in his eyes. The time for speculation and doubt was over; bloodshed was on the horizon.
"Speak!" Lord Merith commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber.
The lead scout, a grizzled veteran with deep-set eyes, stepped forward.
"My lord, we have sighted the enemy. Purewood's forces are massing on the far side of the fortress, near the back walls."
