Beside him, Snow, the white-wolf girl, checked the magazine of her submachine gun. Her ears twitched at the sound of the approaching Orc vanguard. "They’re within range, Lute," she whispered, her eyes sharp with a focus that combined her natural predatory instincts with the modern tactical training Lute had drilled into her.
The Orcs roared, a cacophony of iron and ego. Their shaman began a chant, the air shimmering with the heat of an impending firestorm. To any other village, this would be the end. "Open fire," Lute said. Beside him, Snow, the white-wolf girl, checked the
With a final, singular crack, the battle was decided. Not by the strongest wizard, but by the nerd who brought a gun to a wand fight. As the smoke cleared, Snow bumped her shoulder against his, a playful smirk on her face. Lute sighed, looking at his girls and then at his rifle. The world of magic was changing, one bullet at a time. The Orcs roared, a cacophony of iron and ego