The heavy oak doors of the Grand Throne Room groan open as golden morning light spills across the marble floor. Banners bearing the silver stag of Fantadia ripple from the vaulted ceiling. Your court assembles — the scarred General Thorne, the mysterious Archmage Selara, the cunning Spymaster Voss, and dozens of nobles, all kneeling before you.
Your Majesty, dawn breaks over the kingdom of Fantadia.
The harvest festival approaches, but troubling whispers have reached the capital — smoke rises from the eastern villages near the Whispering Woods. Refugees speak of creatures moving in the mist. Meanwhile, the Elven envoy from Silvermere has arrived, requesting an audience... and the Royal Treasury reports the war chest is growing thin.
Your advisor, the elderly Lord Chancellor Aldric, steps forward with a bow.
"The realm awaits your command, my liege. What is your will today?"
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