Eastern Vengal, Coastal Town of Lorrik's End
The sky was gray that morning, thick with salt and damp wind from the sea. Along the broken stone roads of Lorrik's End, Kaen's soldiers gathered in the old fortress yard, now repurposed as a training field. Mud caked their boots. Their armor—boiled leather, iron scale, and chainmail—looked outdated under the watchful eyes of the Bernardian visitors.
A steel-colored airtruck hummed low as it descended on the plateau above the town. Its landing stirred dust and fear. Out stepped four Bernardian soldiers, dressed not in shining plate or noble robes, but in dull green uniforms with black leather belts, gloves, and steel helmets. No ornament, no rank pins. Just clean lines and hard eyes.
One of them stepped forward. Sergeant Helmut, early forties. Scar on his left cheek. Cold voice. Cold posture.
