This time, for some unknown reason, the commander of a huge army of ferocious, bloodthirsty creatures turned out to be not the most courageous warlord, rushing headlong into the attack as soon as darkness fell. And perhaps such a tactic would have been useful in any other situation, but not against those who were created specifically for battle. While the wolf riders, engaged in lively discussions around the campfire, were relaxing and spending a long evening, the forest on the southern bank of the river suddenly became noticeably more active. Huge walking trees, their crowns obscuring the dark sky, moved like giant titans towards the army of invaders gathered by the water. The surprised creatures tried in vain for too long to figure out what to do in this situation, and with the first rays of the sun, the guardians of the forest, among whose branches elven archers flashed, broke into the enemy camp, inflicting devastating losses and putting the few survivors to flight. Maddened with fear, the orcish crossbowmen, from just a few meters away, could not hit the tree-like creatures with flaming arrows, and soon paid for it with their lives. Among them was the only good warrior, an old and battle-hardened veteran, with a terrible scar across his face; his gaze reflected cold determination, and his steady hand never missed its target. He incinerated the cursed ents, sparing no one, but at the crucial moment, his comrades let the archer down, failing to hit a single one of the weakened soldiers of the elven army.
Completely scattering the remnants of the unlucky orcish band, the inspired inhabitants of the forest kingdom drove the enemy troops back to the fortress, where the final battle took place. The barbarian commander himself led his demoralized army into the slaughter, and there he left his miserable life.
The moral of this fable is: the outcome of a battle is often decided in its first minutes.
Heroist (Orcs) vs Ple-Sen (Elves)
Winner: Ple-Sen (a good way to anger an elf is to start a fire in the forest)