First Wave of Refugees
The roads leading to Vortan Keep were packed.
Refugees, dirty and weary from long journeys, trudged forward in uneven lines, their eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and hope.
Some even didn't have these, they were like dead bodies moving along the crowd.
Silent and Deaf.
While other carried what little they could on their backs; others pushed carts with sick relatives or crying children huddled among their possessions.
The air was full of dust and the faint sound of wailing mingling with shouted orders from soldiers directing the flow of people.
Kael stood on the walls of the keep, arms crossed, surveying the scene below.
The first wave of refugees had arrived earlier than anticipated, and it was clear this was only the beginning.
From his vantage point, the scale of the migration was overwhelming, thousands of souls moving toward the encampments his men had hastily erected near the eastern edge of the territory.