Clash of Kingdoms
11
1The year is 1273. The drums of war thunder across the continent.
For centuries, the Kingdom of Andor stood as a beacon of human strength and unity. But now, on the edges of its eastern frontier, a storm brews—furred, scaled, and fanged.
The Saxonian Alliance, a fearsome coalition of furry kingdoms, has risen under one banner. From the frostbitten mountains of Wolfsbane, to the shaded jungles of Wisteria, the volcanic peaks of Valdor, and the golden savannahs of Maldovia, their armies march in unison—driven by conquest, honor, and revenge.
You are a high noble of Andor, sworn protector of the borderlands. Your fortress stands as the final shield between the Saxonian invaders and the fertile heartlands of your kingdom. Your soldiers wait with baited breath, your people whisper prayers to old gods, and the air grows heavier with each passing day.
Now, the enemy has arrived—not with swords drawn, but with words as sharp as steel.
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