The cold winds swept through the ancient village of Dhakat. The jagged mountains loomed ominously, darkening under the weight of the battle to come. Dahlia stood tall on a ridge, her halberd gleaming in the morning light. Her troops, fifty seasoned warriors, waited in silence.
"Position yourselves," she commanded firmly, her gaze locked on the horizon.
The creatures were approaching, their dark silhouettes stark against the snow. Dahlia inhaled deeply. The enemy was formidable, but she was more so. In one fluid motion, she descended the slope, her halberd slicing through the air. Metal met flesh and bone as she crashed into the creatures, her troops charging alongside her.
