The alliance banner of the sword-bearing griffin fluttered against the broken city walls, rustling in the morning wind. The light of dawn spilled over the land of the Southern Mountain Territory, an area long steeped in splendor. The battle had just ended, and the ancient city of Kantadar was still shrouded in the smell of burning corpses and decay. The former glory, under the erosion of the undead calamity, now left only faint shadows.
A cavalcade of several hundred riders entered this ancient city, garrisoned by an army, along the broken roads, traversing the grand avenue lined with withered vines on the high walls.
