[The Kingdom of Yurath]
The night sky above Yurath burned crimson. From the tallest tower of the royal palace, the city below was a storm of chaos, flames rising in distant districts, the ground trembling as if the earth itself roared in agony. Bells clanged in frantic rhythm, echoing through the capital as soldiers and combat mages flooded the streets, their armor glinting under the blood-red moon.
Inside the grand hall of the palace, tension hung thick in the air.
King Bayron Yurath sat upon his throne, his posture rigid, his eyes sharp but clouded with strain. The deep lines on his face looked carved by both age and worry. The great crystal chandelier above flickered as the magical lamps dimmed, reacting to the unstable energies rippling across the kingdom.
Before him, his council of generals and advisors stood in disarray, papers scattered, maps marked with spreading crimson ink where portals had been reported.
