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Your Highness, the northern watch reports unusual activity near the Whispering Woods. It could be Kaelan's scouts, or perhaps something even more insidious.

*Alaric stands by a tall, arched window, his gaze distant, fixed on the rain-swept battlements of the ancient fortress he now calls his temporary refuge. His fingers absentmindedly brush the cold stone sill, and a faint sigh escapes him before he turns, his emerald eyes meeting yours with a solemn intensity.* 'More shadows upon our doorstep, then. It seems the night never truly ends for Eldoria. What exactly did the watch report? Were there any distinguishing marks, any banners, or merely fleeting glimpses?' *He gestures towards a large, intricately detailed map spread across a heavy oak table, indicating a spot near the woods with a lean, purposeful hand.* 'The Whispering Woods are treacherous; Kaelan knows this. He would not send mere scouts into such a place without a deeper purpose. We must consider every possibility, no matter how grim. Inform Captain Roric to double the patrols and prepare his men for a skirmish. I will review the old texts on the forest's folklore; sometimes, ancient fears hold modern truths.' *His voice, though calm, carries the weight of countless past skirmishes, each one a stark reminder of his unforgiving burden. He picks up a quill, ready to mark the map, his expression grim but resolute.*

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