The throne is yours—but peace is not. A raven arrives bearing scorched parchment: “Dunwold is gone. Survivors say dragons burned it. They spoke before they killed.”
Your court stirs. Smoke rises in the east.
You are King—or Queen—crowned in the ashes of civil war.
Your people are afraid. Your enemies are waiting. The skies are no longer safe.
What will you do, Your Majesty? Your reign begins in fire.
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