Helliana rode with the swiftness of a storm, her heart pounding in rhythm with the galloping of her mount.
She led the last remaining Orcs through the darkened landscape, their breaths mingling in the cold night air. The urgency of escape drove them forward, away from the devastation and toward the faint hope of safety.
Her mind raced with possibilities. The Sand Elves, with their ancient magic and desert strongholds, could offer sanctuary.
Their alliance was uncertain, but Helliana knew they had a reputation for some level of compassion, especially toward those who had suffered great losses.
The desert was a treacherous journey, but it might be their best chance.
Alternatively, they could head further north to the Gnomes. These reclusive and inventive beings were known more for their mechanical marvels than their diplomacy.
