The air hung thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of gunpowder. Dawn had broken, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and angry orange, a fitting backdrop to the carnage unfolding on the fields outside Ashford Manor. For weeks, the whispers of conspiracy had been growing, morphing into a howling storm that now crashed against the walls of their hard-won peace. The rival faction, emboldened by their betrayals and driven by their lust for power, had finally made their move.