Smoke rose from where the fortress had once stood protecting the lives of thousands. Qatrand er Yecine gazed at it from up close, at the edge of the ritually scorched earth where fire had dealt with the recovered bodies. Her black hair ate the light from being covered in vantablack Voidling ichor from head to toe.
Collapsed stone sections had needed to be moved to find many of them. What was now ruins was still a battleground that her strikeforce had spent hour clearing. Including a fight against the eldritch leader of the invasion group that was responsible for this 'victory' for the Voidlings.
'Three days too late. Could we have gotten here faster? If communication could have come sooner…'
