Across the plains, a new threat was rising, one that was whispered of with a hint of disbelief. A large tribe of orcs, it was said, was roaming the plains and slaying the roaming Boharan tribesman they crossed. Some said it was even a large alliance of orcs, a unified army of tribes, but that was met with scoffing. Still, many whispered of the deep trails this brutal orcish group left, telling of their numbers. It was said they had come from the area near the Umbral Depths opening, to the northwest, pouring from the mountains and down unto the plains. They struck along the northern region of the plains, leaving only slaughter in their wake. Fear was beginning to take hold of the citizens, talk of rallying an army or militia, or even a group of heroes to handle the threat. 

The wolves either couldn't smell his arcane prowess, or didn't consider it a threat, Edune decided. A fairly large pack of wolves had been stalking him across the Boharan Plains for the past two days and nights. Twice, the group had confronted him, and he'd actually had to fight them off with spellcraft. While no wolves had been slain, several had been injured when he made his escape, and somehow this only seemed to incite the pack. Still, the mage was heading for a rumored permanent town, a rare thing in the plains of nomadic tribes. It was close and would not only keep the wolves away, but the greater danger he had crossed only days previous. The fresh tracks of the orc army, indicating they were near and might ride across the horizon at any given moment to strike him down. 

The mage stretched and stood in the morning light as the sun crested the horizon, spilling out across the gently rolling hills of the plains. He stood atop one of these gentle slopes now, brown cloak and robes swaying slightly in the cool breeze. Sweat stained the pits, chest and back of his robes; he had not had time to wash whilst being pursued by this wolf pack. The man stretched his legs, pausing only a moment when he heard the nearby howls of the pack. He took off down the hill at a jog, heading towards the small town, down a dirt path. By morning he had arrived, and was winded twice over as he approached the settlement alone, his robes stained in unrepentant sweat as the sun beat overhead.

The town was surprisingly well defended, with a wooden wall surrounding it for defense. The wall, though, was only about nine feet in height. Still, it was thick enough that men walked atop it, two guards posted at the town's main gate, which stood open down the road ahead. Edune walked wearily into the town, which was populated by more than a hundred inhabitants, mostly humans, and housed dozens of buildings. A tavern, three stories in height and made of sturdy wood, had a sign swinging on the street. The mage entered and with few words paid a few silver for a bath, meal and a room. The man wordlessly and rapidly slurped down some broth and cheese before going to clean up. He handed his clothing over to the servant girls while he soaked in the bath, easing his aching muscles. Those wolves, so annoyingly persistent, had left him with little sleep and no food- it was time for him to relax awhile. 

Evening approached in the plains. Outside the town, an army approached, more numerous, well armed and organized than anyone expected. The orcish soldiers wore well-oiled leathers, and fullplate made of steel. They held pikes, swords and axes that shone in the dying sunlight. There were hundreds of them, marching in order, with purpose. Among them strode several larger Ogres, brutal and rare allies of the orcs, and dozens of goblins as well. They were not here to raid the villages, or murder the roaming tribes. They were here to claim land. This army was here to conquer. 

Horns blew and shouts of alarm rang out through the village. Abruptly alert, Edune snatched his still-wet clothing from the servant girls and donned his garments. After gathering his things, he ran into the streets and noticed that several city guardsmen were running towards the wall. The mage followed. He could not help but note that the guards were a motley assortment of leather and iron equipment, with swords belted at their sides. He wondered what use they would be in a real battle. 

Up a set of wooden stairs behind the guards, the spellcaster found himself atop the short wall and looking over its scarce cover at an approaching army. Cresting the horizon were hundreds of orcs, slowly marching forward towards the town. Time seemed to slow, and the guards were shouting over one another, at each other and the townspeople. The citizens faces each mirrored the next in a display of fear. Edune readied himself, hoping that somehow they would have the strength to survive the coming night. The army charged forward, a warcry on the lips of the invaders as they ran. 

The sun sank from the sky, the heat of the day had started to turn into the chill of night.  People should be getting ready to head in-doors and relax for the night, however, there was an energy running through this quaint tribal town; a sense of urgency.  A calamity was befalling the town.  People were screaming and shouting, women and children were crying, and the men folk had no idea what to do.  There was at least one young man who DID have an idea of what to do though.

Stepping out of a local tavern, a young man walked quickly, with a sense of urgency in his step.  He was young, with the appearance of a teenager, sixteen or seventeen years of age.  However, he was tall: over six feet tall, with a muscular build for his age.  His hair was of shortish length, raven black, with highlights of red running through it.  He was clean shaven.  He was a foreigner in these parts, and in actuality, he was not from this particular world originally.  His eyes were a striking shade of deep, pure blue.  He wore a suit of armor most unlike the armor of the guards that protected the city.  He wore a suit of unusual plate mail across his body, made of a strange crimson metal.  A cloak of deep, dark red swished behind him as he walked.  He also wore surcoat with golden phoenix down the center of the garment.  A long sword of well crafted design hung at his side.

He ascended the wooden stairway to reach the top of the town walls that protected this settlement, and the army of orcs that Hiro saw charging toward them.  There wasn't time to spare, people were scared, guards were shouting at each other, no one knew what t do.  There was a man who looked out of place here, also as if he had just been interrupted in the bath, his body and clothes were soaked.  He must have been a visitor from out of town.  He glanced over at the man, and gave a wry grin as he agilely climbed over the top of the wall, and threw himself some distance with great force.  Anyone watching must have thought this lad was out of his mind for hopping over the wall, to certain death.  There had to be around a hundred bloodthirsty orcs that army, ready to rape, pillage, and destroy anything and everything in their way.

The lad landed on the ground a good couple feet away from where he jumped from the wall, landing in a crouching position with grace and a signature, theatrical flair.  Standing back up, he glared toward the approaching army that charged unabated toward him and the city.  He was literally the only thing standing between the orcs and the city.  He breathed deeply, then let words escape his mouth.  A bellowing roar escaped his whole body, sending a wall of resounding force and sound toward the orc army, literally throwing the vanguard of the army back upon the rest of the enemy forces.

"ENOUGH!!!"  The orcish army was forced to pick themselves up off the ground before they could even think to continue their advance.  He had their undivided attention now, and the attention of the whole town.  "People of the plains!  Do not fear these orcs.  Do not run away!  They wish to strike fear in your hearts.  But you are not cowards!  Will you roll over and die to these filthy monsters?  Will you just give up?  Unite with me, anyone who possesses the will and means to fight!  Bare your arms!  I will lead you to victory!  Orcs!  You dare to threaten these people with death and slavery?  You've picked the wrong town to attack!  You picked the town Hiro Kouen, Phoenix Knight, has chosen to defend!  I will destroy you, down to the last Orc!  I will find your master, your leader, your Chieftain, whoever you take your orders from, and I'll land his head on a pike!  I will rend such brutality on you that you'll wish you never even THOUGHT of coming here!  Even your ancestors will feel the beating I give you!  Take this as my first and last warning!  I will rain fire and brimstone upon you!"  The orcs just looked at each other before giving another warcry, and continuing their advance.

Hiro reached toward the sky with one hand.  His other hand sat on the guard of his blade.  His body started to radiate with an orange, fiery energy.  Several fiery lights appeared in the sky, as small,, fiery meteors rained down from above, slamming into the ground with massive force, sending flame, debris, and orcs flying through the air.  The Phoenix Knight drew his blade.  "Let the games begin," he said to himself.  The sword's blade started to glow with the same fiery energy he himself was radiating, piercing through the night's darkness.  "Come!  Bring it!"  He challenged the Orcish Army, the ones that survived the chaos he had just rained down upon them.

The mage stared out upon the army assembled before them, seeking to identify the thread they now faced. It was too dark for him to properly gauge what faced them, other than their numbers. A stranger, garbed in armors and garments of red, moved with purpose among the chaos. He came up the stairs without hesitation and unto the wall. Edune locked eyes with the man who wore some rather fancy equipment. The youth then did something rash. He climbed the top of the wall and leapt outwards from it, and confronted the army himself.The mage looked on as the guardsmen's concern grew on their faces for the teenager who was undoubtedly insane and moments away from a bloody death. Edune gripped his Sorcerer's Staff tightly, the runes shining down its wooden shaft. He prepared to cast a spell, something to help the young man escape from the advancing army. Before he could craft a spell, however, a great roar stumbled the advancing ranks, vibrating the soles of his own boots atop the wall. 

As he gave his speech, the townspeople watched in disbelief. Was he madman or hero? Savior or just a dead man? Their eyes were locked onto him until the end. The orcs began to advance again and the composure of the guards wavered. Then the armored hero began to glow. Remembering the youth's words– he had called himself Hiro Kouen– Edune glanced upwards. The skies, dark from the advancing night, began to lighten overhead. Pinpoints of light grew, and with surprising quickness fiery meteors parted the clouds as they fell towards the battlefield. The ground shook as the fiery rocks crashed into the army, sending flame and stone rolling through the enemy ranks. Those orcs that survived the initial impact screamed as they died, catching fire and running back through their own ranks. 

The army, by all means, should have been completely broken by such an attack, but somehow the uninjured troops stood shoulder to shoulder, watching dispassionately as  their kin died. A bluish glow of several half-spheres marked the work of sorcery among the ranks- several magical shields had guarded a large section of the army from fire and debris. Goblin shamans stood at the center of these, their small green fingers wrapped around their crude staves. Somehow, the mage was able to work through his own sense of shock and surprise to weave a spell, raising an elemental of fire from the ground in front of the wall and willing it to attack the enemy unrelentingly. After channeling the spell through his staff, he began another, aiming to hit the orc army before they could recover and initiate a counter-attack on the armored hero that stood between them and their victims.

Several goblins were looking at Hiro and chanting, their staves held up and glowing slightly. Edune aimed and released a ball of fire at their center, and pushed his magic through his own staff's tip to unleash a ball of lightning to follow. The fire struck one goblin in the face, causing him to shriek as his eyes and skin melted. The ball of lightning hit another in the chest, disrupting the spell and knocking the small beast from its feet. The Mage aimed another spell even as he shouted the guards to their senses.

"Fight! Be men and show this man who defends your town that it is worth defending!" The guards snapped out of their mindless fear as he roared these words on the wall. Bows were notched with arrows, and supporting fire came. 

Although almost half of their forces were slain in an instant from the mighty attack young Kouen had wrought, nearly two hundred remained standing, and impossibly resilient in their determination. Mostly orcs, but goblin spellcasters and several huge Ogres remained, the melee fighters now charging forward, their progress slowed by smoldering craters. In the back, a couple of groups of goblin shamans began their casting. Nearby, an orc mounted on a huge wolf bellowed orders to the advancing troops. His armor was ebony, finely crafted, as was the greatsword upon his back. This orc was unquestionably their leader, and he had not escaped Edune's notice. A ball of lightning shot towards the orc, but it splashed against a magical shield in a pulsing wave of dispersing electricity. Near the leader, a tall, robed orc held a black, gnarled wand in his hand. He aimed it towards Edune, narrowly missing with a bolt of his own lightning, which struck the wooden wall inches away with a shower of sparks and fire. 

Swearing, the mage staggered, focusing on a spell to counter the orc mage. He lost sight of the leader, and the orc savages advanced. Arrows flew and screams of defiance and fear filled the night. 

Hiro Kouen drew his blade, and studied the approaching army of orcs, goblins, and ogres.  They seemed fairy well organized, with melee units protecting caster shamans in the back.  He noticed the lighted glow of magical shields that allowed portions of the enemy army to survive his meteor bombardment.  Hiro heard the voice of another man from behind, shouting to the army as he rushed into the enemy army.  Someone was giving the townspeople the last little push they needed to assist in defending of their own town.  A grin appeared on Hiro's face.

Thank you, whoever the hell just stepped up to the plate there."  Hiro swung his blade with both hands, carving through the first couple orcs, aided by the enchantment of holy fire he placed on his blade, allowing his sword to cut through flesh and light armor like a literal hot knife through butter.  His sword carved a wake of death as he waltzed a "danse macabre" through the enemy forces.  He sliced through the stomach of one orc, to plunge the blade straight into another, the fiery blade cauterizing the wounds he inflicted on his enemies instantly.  He saw spells and arrows flying into the enemy forces, they had another caster on their side.  The enemy shamans countercast their own spells back at the the town, and at Hiro as well.  He swung his blade through the air in a horizontal slice, unleashing a sweeping wave of flame from the blade as he swung, the flames flying toward the backline, but was stopped when a group of orcs threw themselves in front of the attack, a human shield, if it were.

Hiro knelt down, and jumped high into the air, much higher than an ordinary armored individual would be able to leap.  He spun about in midair, dodging blasts of fire and lightning as he flew.  He swiped his hand in the direction of the enemy shamans, tossing a small crimson orb in their direction.  It plunged into the ground beneath their feet, missing directly hitting any of them.  However, the ground shook, a massive explosion of flames erupted from beneath them, catching a whole group of shamans.  Hiro landed on the head of an oricish soldier, smashing him to the ground, presumably snapping his neck.  Hiro caught a sense of magical energy approaching him.  He lifted his blade with both hands and swung, the fiery sword impacting against a wall of lightning that had been flying toward him.  Hiro was sent flying by the impact, landing on his feet, his boots carving grooves through the soil and grass.

There was a robed figure, an orc gripping a wooden staff.  Another orc, approached Hiro, riding a huge direwolf, armored in ebony meta, gripping a large two-handed sword.  He locked eyes with the armored orc, who licked his lips and charged at the Phoenix Knight.  Hiro pointed the tip of his blade at the direwolf.  His blade moved around as if drawing symbols in the air.  Several magical circles formed in midair around the Phoenix Knight, unleashing a barrage of fiery, magical arrows at the Orc and his mount.  The orc leaped off his direwolf as arrows struck the beast, setting it on fire, and raising his blade, he aimed a downward, aerial strike at the young hero.  Hiro pointed a pair of fingers on one hand at the flying orc, summoning flames to his fingertips, and releasing a mighty focused, piercing beam of fire aimed straight at the orcish leader.  The fiery energy struck the orc in the chest, knocking him away, through failing to completely pierce the orc's body like a skewer as Hiro had intended.  Magical energies rippled from the orc's body, the armor smoldered and showed damage in the impacted spot.  It seemed that the mage he was defended had enchanted the Orcish Warlord with defensive magic.  It would take more than that to defeat him.

"Heh, that's a shame, I thought that'd kill you, stubborn bastard, that was a kill shot.  I would've pierced your heart!"  The orc roared in anger.  Hiro started to aim another  charged, fiery, piercing arrow of power at the orc's open maw, but flashes of magic came from above.  Bolts of lightning rained down upon Hiro, creating a blinding explosion of electricity and rippling heat.  When the smoke cleared, Hiro was on one knee, gripping his blade in a defensive stance.  Blood stained his armor and face, and steam radiated from his body.  He coughed up a cloud of smoke and smirked.  The orcs gave a vicious cheer, they managed to wound their enemy.  The Phoenix Knight gave a chuckle.  The Orcish Warlord charged at Hiro, swinging his great sword at him.  Hiro left his grip tighten on his own sword, he swung the blade, parrying his opponent's blade, the two continuing to clash, sparks flying as their blades collided again and again.

It seemed the two warriors worked their way into a stalemate.  Neither of them seemed to be able to get the upper hand on the other.  The Orcish Warlord seemed to be getting agitated and impatient.  As if sensing the leader's agitation, the Orcish Wizard started channeling his magic into his staff, aiming the staff, trying to get a clean shot in at the young, crimson armored lad.  He kept charging his spell, it was going to be a massive lightning blast that would likely cause massive damage whoever he managed to hit with it.  However, Hiro was focused on sword fight with the Orcish Warlord, he did not or could not afford to break his focus on his battle with the orc.  Perhaps it was tunnel vision.

His robes were still wet and slick against his skin, but the mage did not notice. He channeled a spell of invocation through his staff, bringing into being from another plane a flaming humanoid. A fiery circle formed on the ground beneath the wall, and then filled with flames as the elemental pushed its way into a new realm. Edune Spellsinger silently sent his commands to his minion, and returned his focus to the battle in time to narrowly dodge an incoming spell.

Another bolt of lightning crashed into the wall, the wood beneath Edune's feet exploding in flame. With an agility that even surprised himself, the man danced across the wreckage to a sturdier portion of the wall to return fire. The orc mage across the battlefield leveled his black wand at Edune and fired again, this time building a fiery orb of green flames, and firing the demonic ball directly at the mage. It was met with a huge ball of fire the human mage channeled, the two fireballs meeting midair and each diminishing the other. The orc mage began building another spell, and Edune prepared a counter.

The young knight slew orc after orc as he fought his way across the battlefield in a dance of surprising power and grace. Many of the town's guardsmen almost forgot to fire their bows as they watched him fight. Across the battlefield, a fiery humanoid, shorter than a man, crested a small hill and came up behind the Orc Mage, burning the few orcs at the back of the lines that noticed him as he approached his target. The fire elemental focused and formed a ball of fire, slinging it casually at the back of the mage. As it hit, a defensive spell was triggered, rippling across the orc sorcerer's robes and staggering him slightly.

Edune focused his mana and finished carefully forming a large ball of fire on the tip of his Mage's staff. In his free hand, lightning danced between his fingers. His orcish opponent staggered as Edune's elemental attacked from behind. In that moment of distraction, Edune released his spell. Even as quickly as the ball of flame flew, a bolt of lightning streaked past to hit the orc sorcerer first, square in the chest. Even as he took the hit, the ball of flame followed, knocking the wind from the mage and burning away his defensive spells. The orc dropped his wand in shock and pain as large blast of fire hit him from the back as the elemental wasted no time in pressing his attack. Another bolt of lightning left the tip of his staff as Edune landed the final blow on his opponent across the field. The orc was struck in the skull, skin burning black as he expired instantly. 

The human mage struck here and there with blasts of lightning and flame, deterring any soldiers who strayed too close to the town's wall.
A loud thundering crash resounded and lightning played elsewhere on the field as Hiro was attacked by the orc leader and his elite fighters. Edune noticed Hiro was alive, but had been brought to a knee. Quickly, he wove another spell, focusing his thoughts and channeling a spell. A lightning bolt shot from the tip of his staff and streaked across the field to strike the Orc Wizard, a greenish bubble of magic appearing to shield him. On the other side of the field, a fire elemental shot a powerful bolt of flame at the wizard. The Orc grunted as his shield took the blast, and he countered the elemental with a large bolt of ice, striking true as the elemental's flames sputtered and hissed. The fiery humanoid shrunk slightly as it countered with a small, ineffective ball of fire.

A bolt of lightning pierced the green bubble and hit the orc true through the back and into his dark heart. The wizard gurgled as he died, blood boiling inside him. Edune silently cheered, but focused on the battle again, being certain that no opponent would target the young Knight has he fought his battle against the fierce Warlord. The town was dark as night fell, save for the fires burning so bright on the horizon over the wall as the battle raged on.

Hiro continued his battle against the Orcish Warlord.  The Orc struck at Hiro, swinging his sword down with a large vertical swing.  Hiro jumped back dodging the swing, moving out of the Orc's range. His opponent paused to seemingly catch his breath, possibly to plan his own next move.  Hiro himself was out of breath, and needed a breather.  Going at one hundred percent was taking its toll on him.

He saw a flash of lightning strike from beyond his opponent, along with an explosion.  It was the spot where the Orcish Mage was.  It seemed a mage from the city had downed the enemy's mage, the one that struck him with lightning before.  With the Orcish Mage out of the way, and no longer targeting him, Hiro could go all out and defeat this Orcish Warlord, and defeat him once and for all.  Hiro smirked and pointed his sword at his enemy.

"It seems your backup is gone.  Your mage is dead.  There goes your escape plan, in case this went south.  Your trump card is gone.  Care to fold?"  Hiro laughed.  The Orcish Warlord looked behind him to see the smoldering body of his mage, laying dead on the ground.  He roared and howled wildly, spittle flying from his mouth.  He slammed his fist against his chest before gripping his sword in both hands, and charging at the young Phoenix Knight.  "Perfect"  Hiro thought to himself.  Hiro slammed a foot on the soil he stood on, channeling a burst of mana into the ground, causing a rumbling feeling from underfoot.  A solid stonewall erupted out of the ground in front of the Orcish Warlord, and the Phoenix Knight.  The Orcish Warlord didn't see it coming, and slammed face first into the wall.  Hiro held his sword in his right hand, while pressing his left hand against the stone wall.  The wall started to shudder, glowing with a strong fiery energy, until it exploded outward, in the direction of the Warlord.  The Orc was sent flying through the air, landing on his back some distance away.  Hiro stepped out through the smokey remains of the wall, having shielded himself with a defensive, fiery energy around his body.  He charged forward, leaping into the air, and plunging his blade down into the Orc's stomach.  The Orc screamed in terrible pain.  Twisting the blade, he stabbed again, this time, through the chest, impaling the orc's heart straight through.  The Orc made no other noises.  He was dead.  Hiro stepped back, drawing his blade from the body, now bereft of the fiery energy it had previously been covered in.  It was now covered in a river of crimson, Hiro also now covered in the same blood his sword was.  He raised his blade up into the sky, standing with a foot on the corpse of his enemy, he gave a loud roar.

"Your Warlord is DEAD!  I have slain your leader!  You have no chance of winning!  I will hunt down and slay each one of you, until there is none left alive!  I will wipe out your entire clan!  I suggest retreat!"  The orcs and their minions stared at Hiro, aghast that their leader had indeed been slain.  What would they do now that they were leaderless?

The Horae were shifting. Ignius was expiring slowly into Venti, although the nights were still quite warm down in the Boharan Plains. Parvpora hung in the sky pale, her big sister Canelux nearby as they looked down upon the world below. The fate of a tiny town was decided within a single night, but it was not spared wholly from harm. A dark power, more nefarious than any the small town had experience before, sent its finger to test them. This power did not expect that heroes would rise up against it, that its probing would result in its demise. 

Somewhere between dodging bolts of lightning and fire Edune's robes had dried. Parts of the wooden wall encircling the town were aflame, and even now townspeople rushed to put the flames out before they spread. Meanwhile, the battle raged on. The young hero, Hiro, fought the leader of the Orcish armor in brilliant combat. His skill and fiery prowess lent courage to the guardsmen, who rained fire down on the orcs that got too close to the wall. Edune Spellsinger joined them as the lone mage striking from afar to counter the spellcasters of the enemy.

A bolt of lightning flew close to the mage, but instead struck a guardsmen in the center of his chest. The guard flew backwards off of the wall, landing with a sick hard thump on his back. He was without a doubt dead. Scarcely over a dozen guards manned the small wooden wall, and several looked at the first man to fall with naked fear. Edune blamed himself. It was his weakness that caused this man to die, but he could not dwell on the loss. The battle still yet must be fought.

The dwindling flame elemental fought fiercely, striking with huge blasts of flame even as its own light diminished and it shrunk. A goblin shaman nearby raised a staff and released a large shard of frost, piercing the elemental with a hiss. The summoned minion shrieked as the shaman gave another small burst of magical frost, destroying its presence on the material plane. Even as it expired the fierce battle between the young Knight and the orc warlord came to its conclusion. The warlord screamed in pain and was then impaled a second time, dying a red death. The young knight taunted the shocked army, threatening them. 

The orcs were silent, shocked. The silence was broken as Edune released a bolt of lightning from his staff, slaying the goblin shaman that had killed the guardsman. Fury burned bright in his blue eyes as he prepared another spell, fire forming at the end of his staff. The army turned and fled, some pausing slightly, as if still confused or perhaps too stupid to comprehend what had transpired. They had lost, completely and with only one casualty to claim for hundreds of their own losses. It would be a night spoken of by the town as its most epic battle, as a young hero knight and an unknown mage who helped him saved the town from a mighty, fierce horde. One of their own had fallen, and he would be remembered. 

Furious atop the wall, the mage wielded flame and lightning, slighting blasts and bolts as the backs of the retreating army, slaying any who paused. Dozens more fell even as they fled the field. When the last enemy had vanished on the horizon, the mage finally left the wall and went down the stairs into the town. The guard remained where he had died, a woman now weeping in total despair over his cooling corpse. A very young girl stood nearby, uncomprehending, not knowing that her father was gone from this world. Several townsfolk stood nearby, murmuring, some upset at the loss of this father and husband of the small town's guard. Mostly, though, many looked relieved. They themselves had not known if they would survive the night, and as the last of the orcish horde had disappeared over the horizon, the town had let off a cheer. No one would forget this man's sacrifice for their city.

The wooden gates swung open, presumably to allow Hiro reentry to the city, but a horse sped in almost as quickly as they opened, a young man skidding to a stop atop his winded mount. The youth dismounted his steed, and someone came to lead the horse away for rest. Edune listened in, and gathered that this man was a scout who had come to deliver vital information. He breathlessly explained that the army that had attacked the city was a part of an even bigger horde, and that the Warlord that had been their leader was the son of the army's leader. A band of scouts had been tracking the army to gather intelligence on the thread, and he alone had made it out alive with this knowledge. 

The youth said that the mighty army was looking to settle the north of the plains for the orcs. Not only that, they were looking for something, a particular artifact that was said to be buried in the plains of Bohar, in the secret crypt of a fallen orcish leader. The village elders listened to the lad's tale with darkening faces. The orcs pursued this object with a nearly religious obsession, having made pacts with a tribe of goblins and ogres to bolster their ranks. The army that had attacked was an advance force, and there would no doubt be another battle, much worse than before if the young man's tale was to be believed. 

Edune looked over at the spot where the guardsman had died. A brave man, died defending his town and his family. If this army came, there would be more deaths. Even the mightiest among heroes may not prevent all casualties. Although, there might be a way. 

The mage cleared his throat and spoke up, and the villagers gathered nearby– the elders and guardsmen, and the young scout turned their attention towards him. "I will go out and stop this army. I will kill their leader, if I have to, to scatter them back into the mountain holes they crawled out of. I can not stand idly by as the people of the plains are attacked. Does anyone know anything about this crypt they seek? If we can know where they are heading, I may have a better time stopping them."

An elderly man claimed that he had once heard tale of such a tomb, in northeast of the town on the plains. It was almost certainly where they were headed, he said. He marked the area on a map and the mage studied it for several minutes, making certain he knew where to head. Perhaps he could find this artifact they seeked, or at least find the army and prevent any more deaths. He would go alone if he must, but he hoped a certain young hero would join him in saving lives.

The spot on the map was only a few hour's journey from the town. There was no telling when the army might find it. Or, if the ones who had escaped managed to make it to the main army– there was no telling when they might turn and strike in vengeance. 

Hiro looked about the battlefield, at the rest of the army which was shocked to see their leader fallen.  Then another bolt of lightning struck at the orcs.  Springing into action, Hiro flung a fireball at the now panicked orcs, flinging one after another, helping to shove them off, getting them to continue their retreat.  Soon, it was dead silent on the battlefield.  Hiro flared fire from his blade, evaporating the blood off it, before sheathing the sword back onto his belt.  He walked his way back into the town walls, somewhat slowly, as his whole body ached and felt weakened.  A horse sped into the town as Hiro reached the gates, it's hooves clomping loudly against the ground.  Hiro made his way to the village square, where everyone was gathered.  A tarp lay over the body one of the village folk, who had been slain defending the wall.  Hiro had expected more people to have been killed defending the town, in all honesty.  He was relieved that the town was relatively intact, and a single casualty was what they had suffered, though he silently mourned the death of that one man.  He knew no one in this town, and had merely stopped here on his journeys to stay the night.  But he had defended them, given his all to defend this town that had given him shelter, and protected the innocent and scared people within.

The man on the horse, the messenger, gave grave news.  The army they had just defeated, was merely part of a bigger threat, a larger orcish army.  The main army was seeking a religious artifact of some kind, buried somewhere in this land, in a tomb northeast of this town.

By the Gods, Hiro thought to himself.  After all that effort, there's more of them.  A hero's job is never done, is it?  He breathed deeply.  He let everyone talk, and the one mage spoke up, saying he will go out and stop the army, kill the leader, and scatter the remnants back into their caves.

"So be it.  We will strike back at the orcs, hit them where it hurts, and scatter them to the winds.  I will accompany you, good sir.  It is too dangerous to go alone.  But we need to plan.  I do not know if the greater army will return straight here for vengeance, or just head to the tomb, THEN head back here if they get the object they seek in their possession.  Either way, we need to stop them quickly."  Hiro was determined, but one could see fatigue on his face.  He had fought with so much vigor, and he was not unscathed.  He did take that lightning strike earlier, a couple strikes managed to land on him despite his best efforts.  He looked at the mage that had aided him in battle and volunteered to fight the Orcish army..  "What is your name, by the way, Sir Mage?  My name's Hiro Kouen, Phoenix Knight.  I'd like to know the name of the man who aided me in combat, and who is about to risk his life to further combat the Orcish army with me."  The man appeared older than Hiro, perhaps as old as his father.