" I wonder how much force is needed to really shake this world."
The plains had transformed into a battlefield, a canvas painted with hues of blood and destruction. At the heart of the conflict stood two formidable forces: several dwarven made golems, towering behemoths of stone and metal, and the enemy army, that was a harmonious blend of magic and martial prowess.
The golems were now struggling to hold their ground. The elven knights, their movements fluid and graceful, targeted the golems' cores with deadly precision. So did the skilled archers who had heir arrows, imbued with elemental magic and pierced the stone, disabling the massive constructs one by one.
The elven archers, positioned at a safe distance, rained down a barrage of arrows, their projectiles finding their mark with uncanny accuracy. The collosal golems, were easy targets that one could hardly miss.