The town was thriving.
Farms stretched along the riverbanks, their green fields a testament to the people's newfound mastery over the land. Warriors trained in the military grounds, their discipline sharpening with each passing day. The town square bustled with activity as craftsmen, traders, and farmers bartered and exchanged goods.
The masked ruler watched with satisfaction.
But growth never came without problems.
And soon, the first major threat to the town would emerge.
Elya sat at the center of the town square, surrounded by a group of town elders. Among them was Dren, the blacksmith, Vala, the chief farmer, and Arak, the warrior leader.
Dren leaned forward, his face tense. "We have a problem. The mines in the eastern hills are running out of usable ore. Without iron, we can't forge proper weapons or tools."
Vala nodded. "And the farmland is reaching its limit. We need more land for crops, or soon we'll struggle to feed the growing population."
