Preparations for the Coming Storm Part 1

I pushed open the grand doors of the mansion, their usual majestic creak drowned by the pounding in my head. My boots left a trail of earth and dried blood on the polished marble floor, a silent testament to the ferocity of the skirmish that had unfolded within the shadows of Havenwood. My body bore the weight of exhaustion, each step a measured feat of sheer willpower, as I made my way through the familiar halls, feeling every rip in my attire like an echo of the wolves' fangs.

The air hung thick with tension as the members of the Crimson Army assembled in the foyer, their gazes fixed upon me. Faces etched with concern and anticipation betrayed their eagerness for news, their postures stiff with the readiness to spring into action or recoil from despair. It was in these moments, under the scrutiny of those who had pledged their loyalty, that the mantle of Ruler felt heaviest upon my shoulders.