The Dragon’s Blood Awakens

Elion stands beside Saadia and Lydia near the dragon’s corpse, its dark scales dull beneath the rain. Beyond them, Lioran continues moving among the wounded survivors, renewing his broad healing circle.

A young orc, a young adult male orc with a broad, tusked face, a dark fur mantle, and weathered brown leather harnesses, crests the scorched path at a run. He is immense even at a distance, with olive-green skin, long black hair, broad shoulders, and powerful arms marked by old scars.

He covers the remaining distance on foot before skidding to a halt at the battlefield’s edge. Dust and ash whirl around his heavy boots as he stares at the ruined inn.

The orc’s astonishment gives way to cautious respect as his gaze travels from the shattered buildings to the fallen dragon. He approaches slowly, keeping his empty hands visible.

The command leaves Elion’s throat rougher than he intends. For one visible minute, his composure falters beneath the battlefield’s ruin and the weight of so many lives.

Oskar crosses the scorched ground toward Lioran, his heavy steps careful around the injured. He kneels beside the healer and begins lifting broken timber away from the wounded.

Oskar follows the instructions without hesitation, carrying the wounded survivors from the wreckage while Lioran renews his fading light. The work gives the group a steadier rhythm.