Meanwhile, deep within the Dwarven Kingdom…
The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of a few mana lamps embedded in the stone walls.
At the center stood a war table, covered in stained maps and carved tokens shaped like armies, strongholds, and marching routes.
Chieftain Gumarak sat in silence.
Across from him, two generals stood—both armored, both weary.
The taller one spoke first, voice low but tense.
"Chieftain… our food stock is dwindling."
He paused only briefly.
"We don't know how much longer we can last."
The other continued.
"The farmers and fishers are doing what they can…"
A glance.
"Even the hunters and footsoldiers have been risking the forest. Hunting monsters.
But it won't be enough. Not for long."
Gumarak didn't move.
He didn't speak.
He simply looked down at a worn corner of the map where one of their three remaining strongholds had been circled in red.
His jaw clenched.
The silence stretched.
The war room remained silent.
