It had only been a handful of days since the great hall in the ancient fortress had been decorated for a feast and played host to Ashlynn and Nyrielle's joyous betrothal celebration. Since then, the vast chamber continued to change, transforming from a place of joy and celebration into the true heart of the Vale's war effort.
Beneath the dias, a large, square table sat prominently, ringed with enough seats to accommodate Ashlynn's coven, Nyrielle's progeny, and the generals of the four armies. Around the table, large cork boards had been fixed to wooden frames before they were covered with slips of parchment noting everything from the number of injured soldiers to the amount of grain pillaged in the first set of raids.
