Chapter 47 - The Crimson Pact 3

The moon hung low over the crumbling towers of Ebonreach, its pale light seeping through the skeletal remains of what had once been a magnificent citadel. The ancient stones seemed to drink in the moonbeams, transforming the silver glow into something darker, more sinister. Ashen wind whistled through shattered archways and broken windows, carrying with it the whispers of countless souls who had perished within these cursed walls. The very air tasted of iron and regret, as if the dead were still speaking their final words into the void.