As the sun rised from the horizon, casting long shadows over the battlefield, Anon, the valiant warrior and renowned ally of the human kingdom, stood amidst the remnants of a hard-fought clash. Bloodied and battle-worn, his sharp eyes scanned the aftermath of the brutal confrontation. By his side, his loyal soldiers stood, their faces showing a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Among the fallen enemy ranks, eerie figures of the undead lay still, their lifeless forms a testament to the horrors of the dark arts at play.
Amidst the carnage, king gork, approached Anon with a confident smile on his face. "Well, let's put all that aside," Grok proposed with a sly grin, "why don't you and your soldiers join us in our tents for a well-deserved rest? We have an excellent feast prepared. The royal cook has just arrived, and we're about to celebrate the soldiers' victory with an official feast."
