Capítulo 692: Gathering storm

With the setting sun came a sky of fire, the orange of every wintry hearth. It was the battle cry to the gathering night that the only achievement of darkness was to raise the chillness in the air. The heavy snow flow blanketed everything around Westborough. The whiteness stretched across as far as one could see. Atop the city walls, Yagnar waited for Maddox and his battalion to arrive. The eerie howling wind carried the sound of children crying in fear. Even the grown men under his command shivered, not due to the coldness but due to the fear. None of them had any real battle experience.

The soldiers formed a line atop the city wall, carrying a torch in their hands which provided them light and much-needed warmth. 

"General," a dwarven woman whispered. Just like everyone else, she was in metal armor, armed to the teeth. She held a battle axe in one hand and the torch in the other.