The Shallow Town had turned into a battlefield, a trembling canvas where chaos painted its first brutal strokes.
And still, in the center of this unraveling town, the warriors clashed—not just for power, but for conviction, for survival, for the fragile hopes of the world beyond the docks.
Dark clouds, thick and heavy like bruises in the sky, loomed over the water's edge as the Grimknights squared off against the Children of Harbor. The distant rumble of thunder echoed over the sea as waves smashed violently against the breakwater, soaking the docks and flooding the lower alleys. Sails whipped against their riggings with frantic snaps, and gulls circled above in erratic, shrieking patterns, sensing the blood that was about to be spilled.
Between the cobblestone streets and battered shophouses, wind howled like a herald of war. The air shimmered with ozone, sea salt, sweat—and the sharp sting of impending violence.
