Rise of the Horde



The certain possibility of Ishaq and his men participating in the upcoming battle didn't stop the horde. Instead of fearing a powerful foe, the orcs felt excited. Fighting someone as strong as Ishaq was like a shot of adrenaline to them.

During the march of the horde, the ground trembled a bit. The lands of the baron seemed to be quaking in fear at the presence of the orcs. 

In the distance to the south, bald mountains can be seen as the sun shines down on the sand that stretches for miles. Near the river, scattered rocks reflect against the endless blue sky.

The desert extends as far as the eye can see; the sun blazing high in a cloudless blue sky. Most of the ground is brown and barren, the grains of sand hot and coarse. The only lands that had some vegetations were the ones close to the river.

The air tastes like hot sand, but so dry that it sticks to the tongue and is difficult to swallow.

The desert was a symphony of sand and wind and the howl of the wind.

The sand hissed at Khao'khen, his warriors, and their allies as they walked over it. As they march through the land, their feet kick up dust and stones.

But the harshness of the desert did not perturb Khao'khen and his warriors. The orcs can endure the extreme weathers much better than the other races because of their toughness. And the Ereians, they were already used to the heat of their homeland.

As they moved deeper into the desert, they noticed that the wind had picked up speed, and the sand was now whipping around them in all directions. Khao'khen knew they needed to find shelter soon if they wanted to avoid getting caught in a sandstorm.

He scanned the horizon, searching for any signs of shelter or refuge. And then he saw it. In the distance, a series of rocky outcroppings jutted out from the ground, offering some cover from the storm.

"To the rocks!" he shouted to his warriors, gesturing towards the outcroppings. "We need to seek shelter there before the storm catches up with us. We don't want to be buried by the desert before meeting the new enemy army."

They rushed towards the outcropping, their feet sinking deep into the hot sand with each step. As they drew closer, Khao'khen could feel the hot breath of the sandstorm on the back of his neck. 

The situation was dire, but the orcs didn't look nervous at all, they just increased their pace and followed after their chieftain. A sandstorm was not a stranger to the Drakhars. They have already grown accustomed to seeing one or already experienced one while growing up.

Like ants returning to their home, the orcs and the Drakhars made a beeline for the rocky outcroppings. There was no need for Khao'khen to assign who goes to which outcropping. The horde moved in together with their warband. The same thing happened with the Drakhars.

The orcs and Drakhars quickly took shelter from the sandstorm, then waited patiently as it passed by in all its fury. After what felt like hours, the storm finally calmed down and Khao'khen could no longer hear the raging outburst of the desert. 

The sun shone brightly again in a now crystal-clear sky and the winds had died down to a gentle breeze. Khao'khen and his warriors had endured the sandstorm safely and could continue their march towards Ishaq's army.

"Tell the commanders to account their warriors," Khao'khen ordered. "They should thoroughly check their numbers. Someone might have been unluckily buried by the sands."

After doing the checks, the horde moved forward with renewed vigor, knowing that their fight was close at hand. The ground beneath them vibrated with anticipation as they walked, as if something powerful was waiting for them around every corner. 

They continued their march towards the enemy as if the sandstorm had never happened. As they moved closer to their destination, a strange feeling of anticipation filled them; something they could not explain nor express in words, but nonetheless exciting. 

The journey was uneventful and the rest of the way. Khao'khen's horde and their allies made use of the same route that the Warghen Clan had taken during their scouting. They stuck close to the river banks. The sound of the river flowing nearby provided them with a sense of relief from the heat.

It was near noon; the sun was at its peak, and so was the heat that it gave off. Not far away was the fortress, the first obstacle that they must clear. They needed to take control of the fortress to secure their rear and have a path of retreat.

As they had expected, the scouts from the fort quickly took notice of the orcish horde. The bells within the town started ringing.

Khao'khen and his warriors halted their march, knowing fully well that the enemy had taken notice of their presence. They took cover behind large rocks and boulders, assessing the situation before making a move. 

"Be prepared, a battle might break out any moment," Khao'khen ordered, his voice firm and commanding. "Stay focused and alert. We cannot afford to let our guard down."

The orcs and Drakhars readied themselves for battle, each warrior taking their positions behind cover. Khao'khen surveyed their surroundings, looking for any potential weaknesses in the fortress's defenses. 

"The fortress is heavily guarded," he said to his commanders. "We must take them by surprise if we want to have any chance of victory." Trot'thar suggested using stealth to approach the fortress undetected. Khao'khen agreed, knowing that it was their best option. 

"Very well," he said. "The Verakhs would be the ones to do the job then. They will approach the fortress under the cover of nightfall. Inform them to be ready to move out as soon as it gets dark." 

When it comes to stealth, the Verakhs were the ones among the horde who were best at it. Although they usually work in the wilderness, they were up for the task.