The dawn broke over the stronghold with an uneasy calm. The sky was streaked with shades of pink and orange, but the beauty of the morning was lost on those within the fortress walls. The air was thick with tension, a collective sense of foreboding that clung to every corner of the stronghold.
Cedric awoke to the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the stone corridors. He rose quickly, the lingering fatigue from the previous night's battle pushed aside by the urgency of the moment. Dressing swiftly, he stepped outside to find the stronghold already abuzz with activity. Soldiers moved with purpose, their faces set in grim determination as they prepared for the inevitable clash.
As Cedric made his way toward the war room, he was joined by Lyra, who looked equally weary but resolute. "Looks like the whole stronghold is on high alert," she remarked, her tone brisk.