Somewhere, millions of kilometers southeast of where Melkree had sunk her roots, a massive mountain range loomed in the distance, its peaks carved in an intimidating shade of charcoal gray. With its towering summits and tightly interlocked ridgelines, the region was widely considered impassable to the armies of the Radiant Conclave.
Not for lack of trying.
The few passage points deemed safe had long ago been sealed by the Dusken Throne, reinforced with colossal ramparts and an intricate network of ancient black-stone fortresses carved directly into the mountainsides. Suspended bridges and labyrinthine tunnels connected them in a feat of brutal ingenuity. Some structures stood over a thousand meters above ground level. No standard infantry had the slightest chance of scaling such defenses.
At first glance, nothing justified a defensive system this ambitious—especially given the technological poverty of the Duskwight Lands.
Except this region possessed two irreplaceable assets.
