Battle of the crystalwoods

The stillness of the morning air was sharply broken by the thunderous approach of Morgarath's army. Oliver stood with his fellow guardians, Elara, Elyndra, and their allies at the edge of the Crystalwoods, gripped by a tense anticipation.

They had gathered, armed with crystal-forged weapons and armor that glinted in the fractured sunlight. The blessings of the Prismatics shimmered around them, a protective barrier against the evil that now encroached upon their land.

Oliver glanced upwards, his eyes narrowing at the ominous clouds that swirled and cracked with unnatural lightning. The once verdant trees of the Crystalwoods had become gnarled and twisted, corrupted by the darkness that had seeped into the realm.

Morgarath's power was growing, fueled by the malevolence that had infected the land. Oliver could feel it in his bones, like a chill spreading through his core. They had to stop the dark sorcerer here, before his shadow swallowed everything they held dear.