“Let me go! Unhand me right now, you filthy brutes!” Princess Milana screamed, her voice echoing off the towering black walls as two massive orc guards dragged her through the enormous double doors of Mardak’s throne hall.

Her coronation gown, once pristine white silk embroidered with silver waves, was now torn at the hems and stained with dirt and dried blood. Only two weeks had passed since her father’s death, the king she had adored with every beat of her heart. She had been moments away from having the crown placed on her head, with her handsome king-consort Desmond at her side, when the orcs struck.

The invasion had come...