The council chamber was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting elongated shadows across the stone walls.
Malvoria sat at the head of the obsidian table, her fingers steepled beneath her chin, eyes narrowed as she listened to the report. Before her stood a young guard, his armor slightly askew, beads of sweat forming at his temple.
"Your Majesty," the guard began, voice wavering slightly, "our patrols have observed unusual movements near the capital. Old strongholds, previously thought abandoned, show signs of recent activity."
Malvoria's gaze sharpened. "Details," she demanded.
The guard swallowed hard. "Scouts report flickering lights during the night, suggesting fires or lanterns. Tracks have been found leading to and from these locations, though we haven't identified to whom they belong. Additionally, there have been whispers among the villagers of strangers asking questions about the castle's defenses."
