After that, they begin their preparations.
Sorin, Nyssara, Thurn, and Veltha move swiftly, issuing commands to their troops. Each takes charge of their respective forces, ensuring their soldiers are fully armed and ready for the coming battle.
Groth, the battle mage commander, gathers his spellcasters in the city's plaza. The air hums with magic as they refine their incantations, preparing for large-scale assaults and counter-spells against Varestand's barrier.
Varkas oversees everything from a high vantage point, his sharp eyes tracking the organized chaos below. He watches as supplies are distributed, siege weapons are assembled, and warriors steel themselves for war.
As noon approaches, the preparations near completion. The city of Cras, once eerily silent, now hums with the energy of an army on the move.
Then, at last, Varkas raises a clawed hand.
"Enough waiting," he growls. His voice carries over the gathered forces, heavy with authority. "We march."
