Zugan Town, Outskirts of Imlan Kingdom
Four days before the arrival of the Ashedge Clan
The sky above Zugan is thick with black smoke, choking out the morning light. The once-bustling frontier town now trembles beneath the roar of beasts and the cries of the dying. Half the outer wall has collapsed. Fires burn in the northern district. Blood paints the cobblestones crimson.
Middle-level Tier 5 Commander Relk stands atop a shattered watchtower, wind whipping at his tattered cloak. His armor is dented, splashed with soot and monster ichor. His once-polished sword is chipped. Below him, ten thousand soldiers, fight tooth and nail against the monstrous tide.
Relk grips the rusted iron railing, jaw clenched. His eyes scan the chaos—rows of Imlan soldiers in tight formations trying to hold chokepoints, archers stationed atop half-broken rooftops, healers desperately pouring magic into broken bodies. But it's not enough. It's never enough.
