In a conflagration of cliffs that seemed moments from crumbling into each other, white tents dotted the plain like scattered bread crumbs carried by ants. The camp thrummed with activity.
Barricade fences surrounded the perimeter, and massive tower structures had been raised to adapt to the strange angles of the cliff faces. Soldiers in red and obsidian armor moved between them, each to their own duties, some clustered in small groups while others walked patrol routes along the wooden walkways.
Far behind the main camp, masses of dark horses stood in makeshift corrals. They looked like things harvested from nightmares, more vicious than anything called a horse had any right to be. Even their subtle neighing crackled like hellfire sparking against stone.
These creatures were situated behind the largest tent in the camp. Inside, six individuals surrounded a circular table covered with maps and markers.
