CRISIS IN COURT
There was an unusual silence in the hall of the royal court. The burning torches along the walls cast shadows over the tense faces of Noctshire's most powerful advisors, as they sat gathered around a long, intricately carved table made of darkwood.
Lord Marcellus, the oldest and sharpest of them all, sat at the head of the table. His gray beard was neatly combed, and his beady eyes never missed a thing.
He cleared his throat. "We have delayed this meeting long enough. It's time we address the state of Noctshire.”
Murmurs echoed through the hall. The silence cracked.
Elder Varren, known for his sharp tongue and even sharper political moves, said as he leaned forward. His golden robes rustled.
"The Alpha King has been gone too long. His obsession with finding the lost
