As the dim light of dawn broke through the cracks and crevices of the cave, casting faint shadows across the jagged walls, Volk stood tall amidst his resting horde.
The once-quiet cave began to stir as the faint rustling of ogres and orcs waking filled the air.
Volk's crimson gaze swept across his warriors, the remnants of bloodied battles still staining their skin.
The fire in his eyes betrayed the storm brewing in his mind—a fierce determination tempered by careful calculation.
He raised his arm slowly, commanding silence.
The air in the cavern grew heavy, the gravity of his presence drawing all eyes to him. Volk's voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the space.
"Brothers, sisters," he began, his tone carrying an undeniable authority. "The time of hiding is over. This day, we reclaim the skies and the ground beneath it."
The orcs and ogres straightened, their fatigue momentarily forgotten, their chests swelling with resolve.
