The camp sprawled across the valley like a wound on the earth.
Ten thousand tents. Ten thousand banners. The Eldoria faction's war camp stretched from the treeline to the river, the white and gold standards catching the late afternoon wind. Supply wagons formed defensive perimeters around the perimeter. Cook fires burned. Horses stamped. Armor clanked. The organized, mechanical, 'we-are-here-to-conquer' noise of a professional army preparing for a siege.
The command tent sat at the center. Largest. Grandest. Reinforced canvas, carpeted floor, a table that could seat twenty. Candelabras. Wine. A roasted boar. Platters of chicken, the grease still sizzling on the silver trays.
