Amber hues ablaze, engulfing the town in a fiery dance of destruction. With each flicker, they lay siege to the delicate woods, devouring flesh offered in sacrifice. Gradually, they reduce all to ashes, monuments of might crumbling in the face of their relentless advance. The inferno, insatiable in its hunger, ravish everything in its path, buildings bowing in submission to its insistent embrace. Helplessly, they succumb to the relentless wrath of the flames, as the inferno swells, seeking fresh prey to appease its insatiable appetite. Oh, pitiful fire, forever consuming, forever seeking to sustain its own existence at the cost of others'.
Billowing clouds of smoke shroud the entire town, casting dark veil that obscures the sun's rays and deprives its inhabitants of sight. Fear takes hold as they find themselves trapped, uncertain if they will ever witness the sunrise again. The smoke knows no allegiance, driven only by the whims of the wind as it ruthlessly seizes the breath of the living. Innocent and relentless, it envelops every corner of the body, until finally, it extinguishes the very breath of life itself.
The cacophonous symphony began with a piercing scream of terror, sending shockwaves of horror rippling through the townsfolk. Blinded by smoke and seared by flames, they endured agony, their senses heightened to a razor's edge. With wary eyes scanning for signs of the orcish perpetrators, the relentless onslaught of screams led to a chorus of pleas for mercy. Some begged their tormentors for clemency, while others turned to the heavens, invoking divine intervention to end the catastrophe. A haunting refrain of death echoed through the turmoil, completing the tragic orchestra of despair.
At the epicenter of destruction, once stood the mighty edifice. Once a towering symbol of wealth and power, it now lay in ruins, crumbled to the ground amidst the raging inferno. The grandeur of its former glory obscured by smoke and flames, its proud walls reduced to rubble and ash. Amidst the chaos and devastation, the rubble remained a stark reminder of the fragility of greatness, a testament to the indiscriminate wrath of destruction unleashed upon the land.
The auburn-haired elven woman tenderly cupped her daughter's face amidst the rubble, her touch gentle yet tinged with desperation. Her eyes, pools of sadness and flickers of hope, traced the burns scarred across nearly every inch of her body. "My daughter, you're a Caelumora. Remember this; be nice and forgiving and..."
The little girl sobbed, her tear-streaked face scanning the chaos, searching for a glimmer of salvation. Her eyes darted back and forth, a silent plea for her father's imminent arrival. "More forgiving and retaliate when necessary," she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with fear.
"Repeat it, what's the motto of Caelumora?" The woman's voice, softly broke through the din of destruction.
"Be nice and forgiving and more forgiving and retaliate when necessary," the girl echoed.
"Do not forget your roots," the woman's voiced, barely above a whisper.
In an instant, a sword pierced through her stomach with unfathomable speed, tearing through flesh and bone with ruthless precision. Before she could comprehend the horror unfolding, the chained sword was ripped from her abdomen and propelled through the air, it managed severing her head from her body in a gruesome arc. The woman's lifeless eyes stared out into the void, her head rolling across the pavement until it came to a stop at the feet of a towering green figure.
The little girl stood frozen in shock, her jaw hanging agape as she beheld the massive, monstrous creature looming over her. With blood-stained hands, the creature grasped the sword, its blade still dripping with the woman's crimson lifeblood. In a grotesque display of macabre trophies, the creature plucked the severed head from the ground and affixed it to its belt, joining a ghastly collection of other severed heads.
The scene before her was a tableau of unspeakable horror and devastation, the air thick with the stench of death and decay. And in that moment, the little girl realized the true terror of the world she inhabited, a world where innocence was shattered by the merciless brutality of savages.
The girl's scream echoed through the chaos, a raw outpouring of fear and disbelief as the orc's head was obliterated by a bullet, sending a spray of gore across the blood-soaked pavement. With wide eyes, she whipped her head in the direction of the sudden gunshot, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to make sense of the surreal scene unfolding before her.
Amidst the smoke and carnage, a figure emerged from the haze—a tiny man perched atop a golden robot adorned with multiple arms. His eccentric attire and peculiar goggles marked him as an unmistakable anomaly amidst the devastation, his beard grazing his round stomach as he surveyed the scene before him.
"Aye, kids, you all right?" His voice cut through the chaos like a beacon of unexpected calm, drawing the girl's attention. He removed his goggles, revealing eyes so deep and peaceful.