Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Inside the makeshift meeting room constructed by the Verdant Wardens, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The room itself was a marvel of natural architecture—a circular space with walls woven from living vines and roots, interspersed with glowing flowers that bathed the room in a soft, ambient light.

In the center of the room was an open space, the floor covered in a lush, velvety moss that added to the serene, yet commanding atmosphere.

At the heart of the room sat Canna, his presence commanding attention. His chair, unlike any other in the room, was a masterpiece crafted by the Verdant Wardens themselves. Made from the finest Heartwood, it was adorned with intricate carvings of dragons and nature intertwining, symbolizing the harmony he sought to bring to his domain.

The back of the chair arched high, crowned with leaves and vines that seemed to pulse with a gentle light, reflecting his position as the leader of the sanctuary. The armrests were shaped like dragon talons, gripping the edges of the seat, and the cushion was a deep emerald green, offering both comfort and a regal air.

To his right sat his most trusted subordinates: Mortem, the enigmatic necromancer cloaked in shadows; Vorgrim, the towering red-skinned orc with a greatsword at his side; Flora, the serene yet powerful Verdant Warden who had sworn loyalty to Canna; and Grimruk, the imposing black orc whose presence alone could silence a room.

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Each of them exuded an aura of power and loyalty, their expressions reflecting their readiness to serve.

On Canna's left sat Kael, the former head of logistics from Avaloria, whose sharp mind and noble demeanor added a strategic edge to the group. Beside him were Vorak, the formidable barbarian chieftain, and Liora, his wife and the mother of Tiberius. The rest of the seats were occupied by the Verdant Warden elders, their gazes steady and watchful.

Canna's voice cut through the silence, calm yet authoritative. "I don't intend to make this long. Grimruk, bring the rot here."

Grimruk, with a nod, exited the room, returning moments later with a rope in hand. Tugging behind him were five disheveled and frightened individuals, their wrists bound together by the thick rope. Grimruk, with a casual flick of his arm, tossed the group into the center of the meeting space, where they landed in a heap on the moss-covered floor.

The open space in the middle of the room seemed to magnify their presence, casting them in a spotlight that made them appear even more pitiful.

Canna's gaze was unwavering as he looked down at the prisoners. "This rot here is from Arenthia," he announced, his voice cold. "Go and tell them, Grimruk."

Kael's eyes widened in shock. He knew of Arenthia—its reputation, its power, and the implications of what Canna had just said. The room was filled with an almost palpable tension as all eyes turned to Grimruk, awaiting his report.

Grimruk stepped forward, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that seemed to resonate with the very walls of the room. "These men," he began, "are from the Kingdom of Arenthia, a place known for its disdain for those who are different—especially beastkin. They were found hunting down a young beastkin girl, one of many children they had taken and tormented.

The others were already dead by the time we arrived, killed in brutal and horrifying ways. These men here are responsible for those deaths, and they intended to do the same to the last survivor."

Gasps of horror and disgust rippled through the room. The Verdant Wardens exchanged glances, their serene expressions now hardened with anger. Vorak's fists clenched at the mention of the children's suffering, while Liora's eyes filled with sorrow and rage.

Grimruk continued, his voice steady but filled with contempt. "They were followers of a noble from Arenthia who enjoyed hunting beastkin children for sport. We found their camp littered with the bodies of those poor souls. My lord ordered that these men be spared until he decided their fate, but their followers did not receive the same mercy. They have been dealt with accordingly."

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed Grimruk's words. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on them all, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Canna's expression remained unreadable as he looked at the prisoners, waiting for the reactions of those around him.

Kael was the first to speak, his voice tight with a mixture of shock and outrage. "Arenthia... This is no small matter, Canna. The kingdom is powerful, and its nobles are well-connected. But what they have done is unforgivable. We cannot allow such cruelty to go unpunished."

The Verdant Wardens, usually so composed, murmured in agreement. Flora's eyes were narrowed, her anger barely contained as she stared at the prisoners. Mortem's gaze was dark, his thoughts hidden behind his shadowed visage.

Canna's eyes swept over the room, gauging the reactions of his allies. The decision before him was not one to be taken lightly, but the resolve in his heart was clear. These men, and those like them, would not escape justice.

____________

After an hour of intense discussion and deliberation, the meeting reached a unanimous consensus: Canna would travel to the Kingdom of Arenthia after securing Stormtusk's herd. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on everyone present, especially as the details of the nobles' corruption came to light.

The thought of what might be happening within the kingdom, given the deplorable actions of its nobles, stirred a deep sense of urgency within Canna.

As the meeting concluded, Canna stood at the center of the room, his mind racing with possibilities and strategies. The fate of the prisoners, who now sat trembling at the center of the meeting room, was the next matter to address. Canna's gaze shifted to them, his expression hardening as he contemplated their punishment.

But before he could decide, a deafening roar echoed through the sanctuary, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

The roar was so powerful that it caused everyone in the meeting to stand up in alarm, their eyes darting towards the entrance of the room. The Verdant Wardens' eyes widened in surprise, while the barbarians instinctively reached for their weapons. Even Canna's trusted subordinates, hardened as they were, tensed at the sound.

But Canna didn't flinch. Instead, a smile spread across his face, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes as he looked down at the prisoners who now cowered in fear. "Looks like my little Stormbringer is awake," Canna said, his voice low and menacing, yet filled with a certain pride. "Perfect timing indeed."

The prisoners, already terrified, began to tremble even more at the mention of the creature's name.