Aden's vision blurred, his body a canvas of crimson, each heartbeat a fresh wave of agony. Broken ribs stabbed with every breath, his left leg a twisted, useless mass, and his right hand... what was left of it hung like a mangled puppet.
The thought echoing in his mind, a maddening refrain: How did this happen? Where did this army of orcs come from? Just moments before, he'd narrowly defeated a single High Orc, a feat that had almost been his undoing. Now, at least eight more loomed before him, their tusked faces twisted in snarls.
Above, the colossal army of orcs lingered atop the mountain, a dark, ominous tide poised to engulf the settlement. The air was heavy with the promise of slaughter, the very ground seeming to vibrate with the weight of their presence.
Aden's gaze, however, was drawn to the hounds, their leader's voice piercing the chaos.
"RETREAT!" The leader's bellow halted the hounds in their tracks, their battle with the smaller orcs momentarily forgotten.
As they prepared to flee, one hesitant hound turned back, concern etched on his face.
"Captain, what about Vasco?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.
The captain's response was a dismissive shout, carried away by the wind but still audible to Aden's ringing ears.
"Just look at him! How will we even get him out of this encampment when we're not sure we can save ourselves? His ribs are broken, leg's shattered, and that hand... It's a miracle he's standing! Taking him with us? Not possible. Chances are, HE will bleed out before we make it out of Dahaka. So Why bother?"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the hounds, one of them, however, voicing a concern that reflected the pragmatic brutality of their situation.
"But, Captain, what if the Vasco Family retaliates?"
The captain's brush-off was swift, his confidence in their anonymity palpable.
"They can't do anything. His body won't even be found in this mess once the orcs overrun the place. Move out! Use stealth and speed. We need to put as much distance between us and this massacre as possible!"
With that, the hounds vanished into the chaos, their departure marked by the soft thud of footsteps, a stark contrast to the thunder of the approaching orc army.
Aden watched, a numbness spreading through him, a glimmer of hope he'd harbored for rescue extinguished. 'They are leaving me...' The thought wasn't a surprise, yet the pain of it cut deeper than any wound.
One hound, in the fleeting moment before he disappeared from view, glanced back. Their eyes met, Aden's wide with disbelief and pain, the hound's clenched in a silent apology.
'Forgive me, Aden...'The unspoken plea echoed in the hound's mind as he forced himself to look away, to keep moving, the weight of his decision a burden he couldn't yet fully comprehend.
Aden remained, a solitary figure amidst the settlement's carnage, the sound of the orc army's approach growing, a deafening roar that ruptured his eardrums and shook the earth.
The certainty of his situation crystallized in his mind: _I am a dead man._ The thought, devoid of panic or despair, was simply a fact, a conclusion drawn from the dire circumstances that surrounded him.
As the orcs closed in, their war cries and the clash of steel on steel creating a maelstrom of sound, Aden stood still, his broken body a testament to the battles already fought and lost. The world around him narrowed to a single, inevitable thought.
Aden Vasco was a dead man.