It was the day before the full-scale assault on Thal'Zar territory.
The meeting was held in a border city under Sylvanel custody—large, orderly, and unnervingly quiet. Streets that should have carried daily noise stood empty. Doors were shut. Windows barred. The population had been instructed to remain inside, not as punishment, but as precaution.
Lycans moved through the avenues in small patrols, their presence unmistakable even in human form. Beastmen—men who could become animals—stood at key intersections, disciplined and alert. None of the inhabitants had committed any crime. Still, no one was allowed to wander. Not today.
Inside one of the central buildings, the leaders of the allied houses were seated around a wide table.
Elenara au Sylvanel sat with composed authority.
Valttair du Morgain occupied the opposite side, posture rigid, attention sharp.
