The thick black war-smoke rolled over the raised dais like an ink wave, hissing as it swallowed the torchlight.
Shouts of blind panic tore through the Great Feast Hall. Northern nobles scrambled over overturned benches, their heavy fur cloaks tangling in the dark, while rebel soldiers drew iron short-swords with harsh, scraping clatters. Through the darkness, Alpha Viktor’s rough voice bellowed for his raiders to form ranks, his heavy iron boots stamping hard against the flagstones.
"Hold the dais!" Beta Vance roared through the gloom.
Vance stood braced at the edge of the marble steps, his polished steel plate armor clanking as he swept his broadsword back and forth. His scarred face was slick with sweat, his gray eyes straining against the thick haze to shield young Maya behind his le
