In the background

A dwarf, covered in blood stood atop a large rock looking at the retreating army. Fighting his will to chase them and kill more. Fighting the anger and burning hatred that filled every fiber of his being. Fighting the will of his axe thirsting for blood.

Behind him stood a line of blood and sweat soaked warriors, breathing heavily and near collapse. The fighting had continued for days on end. 

"Boran..." Firhin, the commander of the army carefully called out to their newly promoted lord. They had yet to hold a proper enthronement ceremony. It was not needed though. All the dwarves had accepted him as their new lord already. 

"Make camp, we shall push further tomorrow." The blood-soaked dwarf said, while he was covered in blood from beard to boot, his axe gleamed happily in the light of the few flames on the battlefield.