Amidst the darkness that blanketed the dense forest, seven figures moved silently between the twisted trees.
They were no ordinary orcs—they were the elite, the chosen messengers of the newly established royal court.
Their mission was clear: reach the new camp of Gerum, the army commander who had attempted to invade the Iron Fortress, and deliver a small, sealed box sent personally by the Grand Shaman.
Leading them was Drazgh, his dark eyes scanning the path ahead with caution, his fingers lightly resting on the hilt of the long sword strapped to his back.
He was tall, even by orc standards, his body forged like steel, but his most defining trait was his unwavering composure.
Behind him, the other six followed in disciplined silence, each hailing from a different orc clan.
Some were swift as shadows, while others were strong enough to uproot a tree with their bare hands.
