A cold wind swept into the great hall behind the returning scout, stirring the flames in the central hearth until they blazed brighter. Sparks and ash swirled through the air, illuminating the raised platform at the far end of the room.
There sat a dark, iron throne—heavy and imposing. Even draped in thick layers of beast-hide, its frigid, merciless aura remained undiminished.
Atop it lounged a man in a sand-yellow suit of enchanted plate armor. His legs spread lazily, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His helmet rested on the arm of the throne, while one hand held a wine cup and the other supported his weathered, scarred jaw. His face, honed by years of wind and frost, exuded a natural authority—calm, yet indomitable.
This was Helati, the Sand King. A Tier-Three Sand Knight.
Boom—
"They've come," he murmured as the hall doors slammed shut behind the scout. He sat up straight, his gaze falling on the man. "Tell me everything."
