Darkness had fallen, a thick, heavy blanket obscuring the scarred training grounds. Four hours remained until midnight, a few hours since the brutal mock battle concluded. The final tally was in: many warriors of the Rock Bear and Black Tree tribes lay unconscious, casualties of a training exercise that felt far too real.
Even with blunted weapons, the orcs' monstrous strength had taken its toll. Severe bruising was commonplace; concussions, broken bones, and head wounds dotted the landscape of battered bodies.
Blood, a grim testament to the intensity of the clash, stained the earth. Yet, for the defeated warriors, physical pain was secondary to the far deeper wounds of bruised egos and bitter defeat.
The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat, blood, and the earthy aroma of the training grounds. Silence, punctuated only by the occasional groan of a wounded warrior, blanketed the area.
