Alliance
The bronze-skinned warrior watched the c*****e from a vantage point offering safety as well as a view of the destruction. Krengs were born warriors, but dorgans were born to kill. Thirteen krengs had already gone through the Gates of Death today, or wherever it was that krengs went when they died, and only one dorgan to claim for so many lives. Dorgans died hard. Four krengs remained to battle one dorgan—the krengs would die.
He smiled at the sight of so much kreng blood, but it didn't please him as it should. Something was wrong; something nagged and picked at him, burned the pleasant thoughts away. Memory had eluded capture for so many winters that the occasional flash of recall or an intermittent glimpse of the past served little purpose; he could not put the pieces together.
