Murtana sat alone... by herself... a single lone gnoll, thousands of malms away from her pack.
Half-a-dozen War Clans were mustered, preparing to march into the enemy camp. They had dwarves and orcs, gargoyles and gryphons, whole packs of Iredar...
There was even a giant snake and an absolutely terrifying human with metal claws.
All of them... under a single banner.
...And she was at the center.
They called her the greatest hero of the Free Nations.
They called her The Ogreslayer.
Her heart was about to beat out of her chest. She was about to join to battle with the most blood-crazed psychopaths of her generation-- being just... herself.
She needed to pick up her scimitar. She needed to go through the motions.
She had been brave before.
What was different now?
Murtana closed her eyes.
The scale-- the scale was different.
