The moon rose like a silver crown above the eastern horizon, bathing the hills and forests in cold, ethereal light.
Within the weathered walls of Greenshire Castle, its stones steeped in centuries of whispers and wars, Orion, Roldan, and Kashmeri had convened in the grand hall. Flickering torches painted restless shadows across tapestries of battles long past, while the warm, resinous scent of sandalwood curled through the air. At the center of the room, a massive oak table bore the weight not of food or drink, but of secrets and strategy.
