Other side of the coin

The first rays of the sun broke over the horizon, casting a soft golden light across the rebel camp perched atop the fortified hill. The morning mist clung to the trenches and palisades, painting the scene in an eerie stillness that felt like the calm after a storm.

Inor stood near the edge of the hill, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. His face was drawn, his gaze fixed on the winding path leading to the camp. The faint sounds of weary footsteps and clinking metal grew louder as the remnants of the night attack emerged from the distance. He had risen before the dawn, unable to sleep, and now watched the somber procession with growing dread as he sadly found out that his worries were well-founded

Of the three hundred who had departed under Gerric's command, fewer than fifty returned, their leader not even being with them.