The dark beckons but Cassandra refuses its call.
She is all alone now and has been for eons. The others have fled into the arms of the usurper. How easily they were swayed by his dark promises, seduced by his considerable charm. And foremost, blinded by the gold and the power he dangled in front of their greedy eyes.
They took the weapons when they left. They took the knowledge and the food. They left Cassandra thinking she would not be able to survive. That in her darkest hour she too would heed the call of the usurper.
Yet Cassandra is still standing. For whatever material things she was deprived of, they did not strip her of her cunning and her inventiveness and her penchant for survival. From the shadows, Cassandra has watched the world burn, but she has quietly flourished. And now the moment has come to emerge from those shadows. Into the light she will step, she and her army.
Fire burns and cauldrons bubble as the sands and boulders of the ruins she has abided her time in coalesce into stone giants stone, intent on wreaking havoc.
She will take the fight to the usurper.
And to them.
Those that abandoned her.
All of them witches.
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