The Ashmork army reached the foot of the hill beneath the cold morning sky, and Grash rode at the center of the formation with his eyes fixed upon the slope ahead.
Tud'or had forced him to acknowledge something he had spent his entire life refusing to accept. These kobolds were not simply another weak lower race that could be crushed whenever the Ashmork Clan desired. They had produced warriors capable of threatening him, and if the kobolds were allowed to recover from yesterday's losses, they could become an even greater problem.
That was why Grash had refused to wait.
His army had abandoned the previous campsite and relocated much closer to the kobold colony's entrance. He didn't want the distance between them to give the Vaal'kor enough time to recover or escape.
