“ Blackmoor Province. Frostmark Province. Who amongst the two shall prevail, and become the grand champion in this melee? Let the finals begin! “
The announcer announces into the crystal voice amplifier, while standing above the melee grounds to the sounds of wild cheering, but the cheers die down when everyone, from the noble dames, lordlings and knights, down to the commoners notice something amiss.
The sun rises, but it casts no warmth on the final day of the 115th Grand Thalorian Tourney. It feels as if a cold chill of winter frost got into everyone's bones and nerves, despite the sweltering heat in Thaloria City.
The melee arena, a crucible of legends, had been cleared of yesterday’s ice, ash, and bloodless c*****e. But the air is wrong. Too quiet. Too still. The crowd packed
