Damon appreciated the support from the eccentrics. Still, the odds weren't in the favor of this particular caravan.
Seven hundred and thirty-eight orcs. That was a lot. Hell, it was too much.
However, their objective wasn't to win—it was to survive. And for that reason.
Damon called a war council. Or a makeshift one.
It wasn't much; Damon simply wanted to see what he was working with: their skills, abilities, and attributes, those with utility or direct combat applications.
An adventurer's party usually consisted of seven people—that was the upper limit. The merchants had hired nine adventurer parties in total, making sixty-three adventurers.
It must have come at a hefty sum since these adventurers seemed to be decently skilled and had some degree of fame in their locality.
Sixty three adventurers.
Excluding Damon, he wasn't paid to be here; he had simply joined them by chance, or was it fate?
No, it was just a choice he had made which led off to this.
