"Urgh!" Tarok groaned in pain as Gilianna used a mixture of healing magic and special salves on what remained of his arm and shoulder, the process was not pleasant. His armour had been peeled off revealing his blood-stained clothes and the many other wounds covering his body.
Many of the younger officers who were under Tarok's command and those who knew him well felt pain as they saw his current state and heard his groans and at some points even guttural screams.
Hamon who was looking far healthier sat at the head of the war table, sporting a fierce grimace as his aides reported the situation in detail.
'Damn it! We've lost too many.' He internally cursed and bemoaned the current situation. They had clear cut quotas to meet with each successive wave, meeting said quotas would grant them a sliver of a chance at survival but so far, they were on thin ice and this last wave seemed to be the turning point.
