The 13 saint-level high elves swiftly adjusted their positions, each finding a strategic spot near the ruined windows that offered a clear line of sight. They meticulously prepared their bows and arrows, taking advantage of the makeshift barricades created by the shattered glass and fractured walls.
Tristan, observing from the nearest window, couldn't hide his anticipation. The odds were stacked heavily against the elves, with an overwhelming number of wolves threatening to breach the castle's defenses. It was a spectacle he couldn't afford to miss, not when it promised to be a chaotic display of magic and might.
"Charge!" A commanding voice pierced the air, echoing through the chamber as a female saint-level high elf rallied her comrades. In a fluid motion, she deftly mounted three arrows on her short bow, readying herself for the upcoming onslaught.
