The sun rose on the western horizon, its light piercing through the thick fog that clung to the forested borderlands. Elvara stood at the edge of a ridge, her silver hair catching the dawn's glow as she surveyed the battlefield below. The enemy stronghold loomed in the distance, a crude fortress of dark stone, surrounded by layers of spiked barricades and swarming with soldiers.
Beside her, Rynor adjusted the grip on his staff, his expression calm but focused.
'They know we're here,'
he said quietly.
Elvara nodded, her gaze fixed on the fortress.
'Of course they do. The Pact doesn't build something like this without expecting it to be attacked.'
She turned to the soldiers assembled behind them, their armor gleaming faintly in the early light. They were outnumbered, but their resolve was evident in their tense stances and sharp eyes.
'Listen carefully,'
Elvara said, her voice carrying over the group.
