The Orc camp reeked of blood. Apart from the poisoned Worgs lying on the ground, panting weakly, not a single living soul remained. Every Worg was still there, though.
Afraid the Elves might launch a surprise attack, the Orcs had driven wooden stakes into the ground and tied the Worgs' reins to them, keeping the beasts from panicking, running wild, and trampling anyone.
Although none of the Worgs were missing, they had clearly all been poisoned. Not one could stand. As for the resting and badly wounded Orcs, not one had survived. Their leader, twenty Ravagers, and even the Shamans and Warlocks were among the dead. Every throat had been slit.
"Elves! The Elves must have done this!" The Orcs returning to camp went berserk.
"Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!" The Orcs poured out of the camp like a surging tide. The last twenty surviving Ravagers had escaped the massacre because they had been out on night patrol with their Worgs.
They mounted up and raced toward the Elf camp as the vanguard of the raiding force. The other Orcs had no mounts, so they shouldered their weapons and followed the Ravagers, brimming with murderous rage.
Four or five hundred meters was an extremely short distance between two armies at war. Though overcome with grief and fury, the Orcs knew this was a surprise attack. They gritted their teeth and kept as quiet as possible.
When they came within just over a hundred meters of the Elves' main camp, the Orcs suddenly charged, pushing their speed to the limit. The twenty Ravagers leading the way hurtled toward the camp like arrows loosed from a bow.
The Elves seemed oblivious to the Orcs' movements. The Elves on the screen were still warbling away.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud...
Around fifty meters from the Elf