As the sun dipped closer to the horizon, the first wave of creatures emerged from the treeline, grotesque shapes moving with a menacing grace. Their eyes glowed with malice, and their snarls sent chills down the spines of the defenders. The villagers braced themselves, gripping their weapons tightly as they prepared for the inevitable clash.
''Get ready!" Rowan shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. "Aim for their eyes! We can't let them breach our defenses!"
The creatures charged forward, and the villagers unleashed a volley of makeshift projectiles—stones, arrows, whatever they could muster. Their aim was true, but the monsters pressed on, undeterred by the initial assault. The air filled with the sounds of battle—the clash of metal against claws, the cries of the wounded, and the desperate shouts of the defenders.
