Ashar stood at the edge of the stronghold, looking out over the land. The wind blew sharply across the plains, carrying the scent of smoke and tension. The vast expanse before him now seemed to pulse with the weight of impending conflict. Behind him, the sounds of his people preparing for battle echoed through the stone walls. The tension in the air was thick—everyone knew the time had come.
***
As the first wave of darkness fell across the sky, Ashar turned to the men and women stationed at the front gates, his thoughts sharp and focused. They were readying the last of the defenses, reinforcing the walls with whatever materials they could spare, but Ashar knew that it wouldn't be enough to withstand a full Orc assault. Their only hope was to strike fast, hit where it hurt, and disorient Drogath's forces before they could regroup.
Sarek approached, his face as stoic as ever. "The scouts confirm Drogath's army is positioned less than five miles out," he said quietly, his voice filled with the grimness of the situation. "They've already begun fortifying their position. Looks like they're preparing for a siege."
Ashar nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "We can't afford a siege. We don't have the manpower to hold out for long. We need to make them fear us, before they can settle in. Have the scouts confirmed if they've deployed any siege weapons?"
"They have," Sarek replied, his lips curling into a grim line. "Catapults, and they've likely brought some battering rams. Drogath wants us broken fast, he's not planning to drag this out."
Ashar's hands tightened into fists. The plan was clear now. If they couldn't stop the siege before it started, they would never stand a chance. The stronghold's walls weren't impervious to the kind of brute force the Orcs could muster. They had to act fast, strike at the heart of Drogath's force, and break their will to fight before it even began.
"Get the traps set up along the eastern path. We're going to draw them in," Ashar ordered, his voice firm. "I want the front gates locked, and all units ready for quick strikes. We can't give them a moment to breathe."
Sarek nodded and moved off, barking orders to the soldiers. Ashar could see the unease on their faces, the worry and fear that gripped them all. But he also saw something else—determination. Despite the odds, they were ready to fight. They knew this was the only chance they had at survival, and they were willing to throw everything into it.
The First Strike
Night had fully fallen by the time the first battle horn sounded. The deep, resonant note echoed through the valley, sending a ripple of dread and adrenaline through the ranks. Ashar had stationed himself at the front lines, watching the movement of the Orcs from the high cliffs above the main gate.
"They're starting to move," Rylah's voice came from behind him, sharp and quick. She was breathing heavily, clearly having been running from one position to another. "They've begun their march. Catapults are being wheeled in."
"We've got one shot at this," Ashar muttered, mostly to himself. "We hit them hard and fast before they can establish their foothold. Then we fall back and hit them again from the flank."
Rylah nodded, her eyes focused. "We've set up the traps along the eastern side. The scouts will pull them in, and then we'll trap them. They won't know what hit them."
As the first wave of Orcs came into view, Ashar's heart began to race. His warriors, armed with makeshift weapons, positioned themselves at strategic points. He had drilled them on quick attacks, sabotage, and hitting with precision. Now was the moment to put it all to the test.
He gave a signal, and the first of the traps were triggered—a series of spikes buried in the earth, concealed beneath the dry grass. As the Orcs advanced, the ground beneath their feet gave way, sending the first line of attackers into chaos. Orcs cried out in shock as they fell into the pits, while the rest of their ranks were thrown into disarray.
"Now!" Ashar barked.
From the shadows, a group of his fighters sprang forward, attacking the Orcs from the flanks. Arrows flew from the treeline, striking down their commanders before they had a chance to regroup. Ashar's heart pounded as he watched the chaos unfold. It was working. The Orcs were stumbling, confused. They weren't expecting this kind of response.
But their retaliation came quickly. Drogath's forces were not only vast, but they were also seasoned warriors. It didn't take long for them to reorganize and push forward, their sheer numbers overwhelming the initial advantage.
"We need to fall back!" Rylah shouted, pulling Ashar's attention back to the battle. "They're regrouping too quickly!"
Ashar's mind raced. He had anticipated this moment, but it wasn't enough. The Orcs were pushing forward with a determination that matched his own. Their catapults were in position, and the first stones began to hurl toward the gates of the stronghold.
"Pull back!" Ashar commanded. "We need to get to the walls, now!"
The retreat was swift but chaotic. As Ashar and his warriors made their way back to the stronghold, the sound of the Orc war drums intensified. They were preparing for a full-scale siege.
***
Back inside the stronghold, Ashar paced the command center. The walls had taken a beating, but the gates had held for now. His warriors were exhausted, their bodies battered from the brief but fierce skirmish. But they had accomplished something—Drogath's forces were stalling.
"I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them," Sarek said, his voice grim as he looked over the damage. "They're mobilizing for a full assault. The catapults are getting closer."
Ashar's fingers clenched into fists. The enemy was relentless. They couldn't afford to let the Orcs gain any more ground.
"We'll make them bleed for every inch they take," Ashar growled. "Rylah, I need you to coordinate with the fighters. We're going to keep hitting them, drawing them in, tiring them out. We can't give them time to organize."
Rylah nodded, her expression cold. "Understood. I'll organize the ambushes."
Ashar turned to Sarek. "Prepare the underground refuge. If the walls fall, we'll retreat there. We can't risk losing everyone in one battle."
Sarek hesitated, then nodded. "It's ready. But we'll need more time."
Time. It was the one thing they didn't have.
***
Ashar stood atop the stronghold's walls, watching as Drogath's forces prepared for their next move. The calm of the night was shattered by the sound of Orc war drums, signaling the beginning of the next assault. The coming battle would test every last bit of their strength, but Ashar wasn't going to let it be their end.
He wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.
The Orcs might have the numbers, but Ashar had something they didn't—heart, resolve, and the unbreakable will to fight for a future his people deserved.
And he would fight to the last breath.