Two Ebonies.
Morning.
Theodore Mansion.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
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The early morning light cast a golden hue over the expansive grounds of the mansion. It stood like a sentinel against the encroaching chill of the impending winter, its black stone walls told stories of strength.
In the courtyard, preparations were underway. The crisp air was alive with the sound of horses being saddled, weapons being sharpened, and the hushed murmurs of those readying for the expedition.
At the heart of the activity stood Lord Theodore, his presence a beacon of determination. He was clad in sturdy hunting attire, a different look from his usual regal garb, with a fur-lined cloak draped over his broad shoulders. His eyes, steely and resolute, scanned the preparations with the keen scrutiny of a seasoned leader that he is.