The Fall of Romantica
Countess Maria Svesta lay on her bed, hair messy and eyes red from lack of sleep. The once beautiful room was now filled with half-empty bottles of expensive wine and liquor, with some half-smashed in her drunken rage.
"Alistair~ you promised to protect me!" Her voice, filled with desperation, echoed through the empty halls.
Her cries might even sound pitiful to those who didn't know her. No maids or knights waited outside the door. Now, an abandoned and empty castle inside a fragile fort.
"Those monsters are going to destroy my city and ravish my body, yet you do not act."
Maria didn't expect the speed at which the orcs would use their victory, taking Westrin to build momentum and bright another tribe of monsters. Normally, the different tribes hated each other, but someone brought them together.
She looked out of her window.
A mass of monsters stood only a hundred metres from her walls, armoured to the limits—a wall of green muscle and ferocity.