Helliana rode with the swiftness of a storm, her heart pounding in rhythm with the galloping of her mount.
She led the last remaining Orcs through the darkened landscape, their breaths mingling in the cold night air. The urgency of escape drove them forward, away from the devastation and toward the faint hope of safety.
Her mind raced with possibilities. The Sand Elves, with their ancient magic and desert strongholds, could offer sanctuary.
Their alliance was uncertain, but Helliana knew they had a reputation for some level of compassion, especially toward those who had suffered great losses.
The desert was a treacherous journey, but it might be their best chance.
Alternatively, they could head further north to the Gnomes. These reclusive and inventive beings were known more for their mechanical marvels than their diplomacy.
Grumpy and selfish, the Gnomes were more concerned with their inventions than the politics of war.
Yet, Helliana wondered if the promise of alliance and trade could sway them. Their defensive fortresses and cunning traps might provide the protection her people desperately needed right now.
As she led the Orcs onward, her thoughts were interrupted by a distant, anguished cry.
Thorgar's voice echoed through the night, a haunting reminder of the sacrifices being made. Helliana's heart clenched, and she instinctively glanced back, straining to see through the darkness. Her eyes searched for any sign of Thorgar and the brave warriors left behind to stem the tide of King Kraggul and his relentless Hobgoblin army.
"Thorgar . . ." she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and fury.
The sight of their fading figures was enough to fill her with a surge of guilt and helplessness. The loyalty and valor of her comrades tore at her resolve, and every fiber of her being screamed to turn back, to fight alongside them and avenge their fallen kin.
But she knew she couldn't. To turn back now would be to dishonor their sacrifices.
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The Orcs followed without hesitation, their trust in Helliana unwavering. She led them toward the desert, the horizon a distant promise of refuge.
Each step took them further from the immediate danger, yet closer to an uncertain future.
Helliana couldn't shake the feeling of dread, the gnawing worry for those left behind. Thorgar's bravery haunted her, a constant reminder of the cost of their survival.
She rode on, her heart heavy but her resolve unbroken, determined to honor the sacrifices of her comrades and to lead her people to safety.
The night stretched on, a seemingly endless journey through the darkness. But Helliana's spirit burned bright, a beacon of hope for the future of the Orcs. She would find them sanctuary, no matter the cost, and ensure that the legacy of their fallen heroes would live on.
~BoOOomM!~
A thunderous explosion tore through the night, flinging the Orcs from their mounts like leaves in a storm.
Helliana was hurled through the air, the force of the blast sending her sprawling. She hit the ground hard, pain lancing through her body as she rolled to a stop.
Her ears rang with a piercing whine, drowning out all other sounds. Dazed and disoriented, Helliana struggled to push herself up, her vision swimming. Slowly, the world came back into focus, and she took in the scene before her.
The explosion had carved a smoking crater into the earth, its edges glowing with molten rock and flickering flames. Scorched earth and shattered weapons lay strewn about, the remnants of what had once been proud Orc warriors.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt flesh and metal, a grim testament to the power of the blast.
Helliana's heart pounded as she surveyed the devastation. Her comrades lay scattered around the impact zone, their bodies twisted and broken. Flames licked at the wreckage, casting eerie shadows that danced in the night.
Steeling herself, Helliana rose to her feet, her legs trembling but her resolve hardening. She could see the Hobgoblins emerging from the darkness, their eyes gleaming with malevolent intent.
The realization struck her like a hammer blow –– their enemies had caught up to them, and there was no stopping them.