Underneath the bed of the river, in a secret hideout, five obscure figures stood across each other with a haggard look.
One of them had a pale expression and seemed to be on the verge of dying.
"How is the situation outside?" The first figure asked who seemed to be in charge.
"Bad, very bad. The undead has been pushed back and soon the troops of Leonhart may arrive at this place and find our hidden spot."
"Damn!" The first figure clenched his fist.
"Don't worry the situation is not that worse. There are no reinforcements from the capital till now and they might have been worn out due to battling all day and at night the undead might have a chance to turn the situation around." One of them spoke.
"Fool!" The first figure snorted with a fiery expression.