The sands of time continued to fall.
The sun rose over Springdale, casting its light across a city already wide awake. After all, the day of the Sovereign Conclave had arrived.
Festivals had broken out across the streets before dawn. Music, banners, and crowds filled every district. The city was packed shoulder to shoulder with locals and visitors alike.
Inns overflowed, plazas were crowded, and the roads were barely passable beneath the press of people.
Security had been tripled. City watch patrols moved in tight formations, checkpoints blocked major intersections, and magical barriers glowed faintly above key routes.
Every delegation from all twenty member states had already arrived, their escorts and banners spread throughout the city.
