March of the Dark Army

The last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon. It was time.

The Dark Army roared. Korzak roared with them. The drums began. They would march forward soon, march on one of the last human bastions. Here in the front lines, the fighting would be brutal, the losses tremendous. It was Korzak’s role to play. The spiked helm, the savage tattoos, the broken tusk; all of it was simply what he had to do.

She would never have anyone who was not a warrior.

Korzak roared and marched, waving his jagged blade, thinking of green skin and dark eyes…