Rugthar, the Goblin Warchief, intensely surveyed the vast green expanse before the walls of Gastros. Beside him, Grit'ak, the eldest shaman, chanted ancient incantations, preparing the horde for the imminent clash.
The goblins were restless, their veins pulsing with the anticipation of battle. At Rugthar's signal, the horde surged forward, a relentless and ferocious wave. The sound of war drums, made from human skin, reverberated across the field, infusing each goblin warrior with an insatiable hunger for combat.
In Rugthar's heart, the word of power, "At' accat," pulsed, inflaming his muscles and sharpening his vision with an intense light. The horde advanced fearlessly, using the bodies of the fallen as shields and steps. Their shouts echoed across the battlefield, a cacophony of power and desperation.
The air was filled with the bittersweet aroma of blood and runic gunpowder, a disturbing combination that energized the goblins. Rugthar knew that using the dragon fire word came with a cost, but the promise of immediate power outweighed any thoughts of longevity.
For hours, the battlefield was relentless chaos. Blood, entrails, and debris covered the ground, transforming it into a scene of carnage. Rugthar fought alongside his brothers, each swing of his blade taking human lives. The defenders, especially Kiros's troops, displayed a discipline and coordination that irritated the goblins.
"At' accat!" Rugthar roared again, feeling the power surge through his veins. In sporadic moments, some goblins managed to scale the walls only to be repelled by the human reserve forces. Wolferos, Rugthar thought with disdain. The human commander was cunning, but the goblins' determination was unbeatable.
Then, after eighteen hours of incessant combat, when Rugthar's body was on the brink of exhaustion, a piercing sound filled the air. A trumpet blared, signaling the retreat. Rugthar looked around, seeing his brothers quickly obey, retreating faster than they had advanced. The surprise on the exhausted humans' faces was evident.
Rugthar felt a mixture of frustration and relief. The battle was over, but the war was far from finished. As the human defenders shouted in celebration, Rugthar vowed they would return. Stronger, more prepared. Goblins did not know final surrender.
"We will return," Rugthar murmured, a dark smile forming on his blood-stained lips. "Gastros will fall."