Desperate times call for desperate measures.

In the heart of the forest, the whisper of the cold wind made the last golden leaves dance, creating a melancholic but captivating spectacle. The trees prepared for the approaching winter, leaving behind the vestiges of autumn in a whirlwind of colors and memories. The calm of nature seemed to herald a period of rest and renewal, where the forest prepared to be reborn under a blanket of shimmering snow.

To the south of the cursed forest, very far from any "human" civilization, a large fortress had been newly built there, fenced in solid wood. It opened onto a large space capable of accommodating several thousand inhabitants. It had a hexagonal shape, so that on each of its sides, a very high observation tower had been placed. In each of these towers, there were a minimum of three soldiers, two archers and an observer, sometimes a messenger, who reported on the abnormal behavior of the surrounding creatures.