Captain Kael stood at the forefront of his assembled knights, his polished armor gleaming under the morning light, betraying none of the tension that swirled in the air. He breathed deeply, his eyes tracing the horizon where the orcs would soon emerge. Kael, once a young warrior in service of his king, was no stranger to this weight. This would not be his first battle. Yet, as he drew his sword, he felt a flicker of something in his chest—a silent oath that his people, the people of Stagpeak, would see tomorrow.
The lookouts called from the tower, shouting updates. Orcs were advancing through the dense foliage, the rhythm of their drums thunderous and menacing. The knights lined up, armor clinking and spears raised, each soldier determined and ready, yet cautious. They relied on the high, imposing wall of Stagpeak, sturdy and unyielding, a testament to centuries of steadfast defense. In their minds, nothing could breach it.
The archers took their positions, arrows poised and steady, eyes locked on the tree line. Then, as a horn blared from the woods, they loosed their arrows in unison, creating a cascade of death that darkened the sky. Arrows struck down many of the advancing creatures, the forest floor littered with their bodies. As the knights gazed down, expecting a sight of victory, they instead found themselves staring at an unexpected nightmare. The orcs were not alone; their ranks were filled with goblins, vicious, gnashing creatures, bodies haphazardly piled at the base of the wall. These weren't ordinary goblins but tough, seasoned fighters—a phenomenon seldom seen outside of legends.
Then, without warning, a roar tore through the air, chilling the spines of even the bravest knights. Emerging from the forest's depths were more orcs, this time in relentless waves, their roars loud enough to shake the walls. The archers scrambled to reload, but the enemy closed in fast, fierce, and endless.
As the orcs converged on the gate, they parted in reverence, making way for a towering figure. A shaman orc. A being rarely seen, and even more rarely survived. His twisted staff crackled with an eerie red light, the raw energy palpable. The soldiers on the wall held their breath, sensing the unnatural power that radiated from him. With a guttural chant, the shaman lifted his staff high, and an orb of fire formed at its tip, growing in size and ferocity until it seared the air around it.
The fireball launched toward the gate with staggering speed, exploding on impact and obliterating the entrance. Splintered wood and shards of metal rained down on the defenders. Kael, unfazed by the shock, barked orders to his men. "Form ranks! Protect the civilians!" The knights swiftly obeyed, forming a shield wall, as townsfolk fled in terror, their cries rising amidst the chaos.
"We must evacuate the town!" Kael shouted to his soldiers. "Stagpeak is nothing without its people!" His voice was resolute, each command steadying the panicked hearts of the townsfolk who ran past.
As the knights held their ground, meeting the orcs head-on, a savage clash erupted. Blood spattered the streets as steel met flesh, and screams filled the air. Kael fought fiercely, his sword flashing as he cut down one orc after another, his every swing marked with the skill and experience of a seasoned veteran. But even his stamina was not infinite. Each orc he struck down was replaced by two more, their numbers overwhelming.
Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Rowan was focused on chopping firewood, the rhythmic swing of the axe grounding him in the mundane. But then, a vision seized him. Stagpeak—engulfed in flames. Familiar faces, helpless, crying out for mercy. And there, shrouded in smoke and shadows, a dark figure loomed in the heart of the destruction.
Gareth's rough hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality. "Rowan," he said, his voice calm but urgent. "They need you."
Rowan took a shaky breath, the weight of his vision pressing on him like an iron chain. "I have to go. Stagpeak…Maya. The people. I can't let them down." Gareth's hand gripped tighter, and with a nod of silent understanding, he released Rowan, who turned and sprinted through the trees.
Back at Stagpeak, the battle raged on, but fatigue had started to creep in among the defenders. Captain Kael was beginning to falter, each swing of his sword slightly slower than the last. Just when it seemed the tide might turn, a new wave of orcs stepped forward. These were no ordinary foot soldiers. Their muscles bulged, their eyes gleamed with intelligence and cruelty, and their armor was a stark contrast to the rudimentary gear of the lesser orcs.
"I'll handle him," sneered one of the larger orcs, pointing a wickedly sharp axe at Kael. The other orcs muttered among themselves, but the challenger only grinned, his confidence evident.
Kael tightened his grip on his sword, turning to his men. "This isn't the end," he said, his voice a quiet vow. "Stay strong. Watch…learn." The knights around him, battle-worn and bloodied, looked to their captain, his words stirring a flicker of hope in their eyes.
Summoning every last reserve of strength, Kael raised his sword high. The blade began to glow, a faint shimmer that grew into a radiant aura. It was a technique he hadn't used in years—a technique that demanded every ounce of energy he had left.
With a bellow that echoed across the battlefield, he brought his blade down. The orc barely had time to react before the sword cleaved through the air, splitting the creature in two. But Kael paid a steep price. As the orc crumbled, Kael collapsed to his knees, the energy drained from his body.
The other orcs watched with a mix of horror and awe. One sneered, "I told him to be careful. Cockiness gets you killed." But the shaman orc showed no sign of concern. With the flick of his wrist, he conjured another fireball, sending it crashing into the heart of the town, reducing homes to rubble. In the background, knights scrambled to gather the townsfolk, guiding them toward safety.
Meanwhile, Rowan was running, the sound of screams and clashing steel filling his ears as he approached the gates. He'd never felt his heart pound like this. Each step felt too slow, each breath too shallow. His grip tightened around the hilt of his weapon, his determination burning fiercer than ever. He would not let Stagpeak fall.