The combined armies of the Concord, their resolve hardened by the arduous march through Morrathiel's blighted lands, were within sight of the corrupted Sunstone Citadel. The ominous structure loomed against the perpetually twilight sky, a jagged silhouette of dark stone pulsing with an unnatural green light. Anticipation, a tense blend of hope and dread, rippled through the ranks. The final confrontation was imminent.
King Theron Vaelorin, Lord Vorlag Ironclaw, Queen Maelis Wildheart, Lord Kaelen Bloodhowl, Lady Seraphina Moonwhisper, and Warden Kyros Starseeker rode at the vanguard, their eyes fixed on the Citadel, their minds focused on the battle to come. A fragile sense of unity, forged in the crucible of shared adversity, held the diverse forces together.
It was during a strategic pause, as the Concord commanders gathered to finalize their assault plan within a relatively clear patch of blighted ground, that the unthinkable occurred. The air, already thick with the stench of decay, suddenly crackled with an unfamiliar energy, a discordant resonance that jarred the senses.
The first sign of treachery was subtle. A tremor ran through the Draventhall ranks, not of fear, but of a strange, unsettling stillness. Then, Captain Brek Ironjaw, his gruff face contorted in a silent snarl of effort, staggered back from his position near the siege weaponry, his hand clutching his chest. A dark, viscous liquid seeped between his fingers, staining his iron-grey beard.
Before anyone could react, several Draventhall warriors, their eyes glazed over with an unnatural fervor, turned on their Vaelorin and Ulvaren allies. The roar of their experimental "bone-breaker" devices, moments before poised to unleash destruction upon the Citadel, now tore through the ranks of the Concord. Blessed iron shrapnel ripped through armor and flesh, sowing chaos and confusion.
Lord Vorlag Ironclaw, his face a mask of disbelief and fury, roared a command, but his own warriors seemed deaf to his voice, their movements jerky and unnatural, their attacks directed with a horrifying precision against those who had fought alongside them. It was a swift, brutal internal assault, tearing through the heart of the allied forces.
Simultaneously, from the edges of the Solmorae contingent, a wave of dark energy erupted. Several of Lady Seraphina's mystics, their eyes now glowing with a malevolent green light mirroring that of the Skarnwraiths, unleashed blasts of shadow magic, their once-protective wards twisted into offensive weapons. The air filled with the screams of the surprised Solmorae faithful as their own kin turned against them.
Lady Seraphina herself recoiled in horror, her veiled face a mask of anguish. "The darkness… it has infiltrated our ranks!" she cried, her voice barely audible above the sudden chaos.
The meticulously planned assault on the Sunstone Citadel dissolved into a brutal melee, brother turning against brother, ally against ally. Confusion reigned as the Concord forces struggled to understand the sudden betrayal. Was this a coordinated attack by Selene? Had the darkness somehow reached into their very core?
King Theron, his silver sword flashing, fought back-to-back with Lord Kaelen, their combined fury a whirlwind of steel and primal rage against the suddenly hostile Draventhall and Solmorae warriors. Queen Maelis and her Tir Vareth healers found themselves caught in the crossfire, their life-affirming magic useless against the corrupted intent of their former allies. Warden Kyros and his Nytherian astronomers, caught off guard, were forced to defend themselves with their arcane staves against the possessed mystics.
The betrayal cut deep, both physically and emotionally. Trust, the fragile foundation of their alliance, shattered in an instant. The carefully coordinated strengths of each kingdom now turned against each other, their advance grinding to a bloody halt.
Cassian Vorne, leading the Ulvaren vanguard, watched in stunned disbelief as the Draventhall warriors beside him unleashed their devastating weaponry upon their allies. His booming roar of outrage echoed across the battlefield as he and his berserkers turned to meet this unexpected threat, their axes now stained with the blood of those they had marched alongside.
The reason for the betrayal, though not immediately clear, hinted at a deeper, more insidious influence than simple coercion. The eyes of the possessed warriors held a chillingly vacant focus, their movements suggesting a will not entirely their own, a puppet-like obedience to a darker power. Whispers of Morrathiel infiltrators, of subtle enchantments and insidious corruption seeping into their ranks during the long march, began to spread amongst the bewildered Concord forces.
The meticulously planned assault on the Sunstone Citadel was now a desperate fight for survival against enemies within their own ranks. The momentum of their advance was broken, their forces scattered and disoriented. The carefully laid strategies were rendered useless as they struggled to identify friend from foe.
King Theron, his face grim, realized the horrifying truth. Selene's shadow tactics extended far beyond the battlefield. She had sown discord, exploited existing tensions, and somehow managed to turn elements of the Concord against itself, striking a devastating blow at the very heart of their unity.
The betrayal was a crippling blow to the Concord's morale and their strategic advantage. The march on Morrathiel, once a symbol of hope, now threatened to become their undoing. The carefully forged alliance teetered on the brink of collapse, the hard-won trust replaced by suspicion and recrimination. The final confrontation with Selene, already a daunting prospect, now seemed an almost insurmountable challenge, with enemies both ahead and behind. The darkness had found a way to strike from within, and the consequences for the Concord were likely to be catastrophic. The hope of victory dwindled with each swing of a corrupted ally's weapon, each blast from a traitor's device. The march on Morrathiel had become a desperate struggle for survival against the most insidious enemy of all – treachery in their own ranks.