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She didn't know why she did it. Then again Zpan did a lot of things on impulse.
He was an Orc, a member of the Horde. But he was young and a magic-user. His inexperience almost cost him his life in his battle with the old, giant Yeti. She hadn't meant to do anything but watch dispassionately, Chuckles panting by her side.
And then, when his magic failed to shield him and the Yeti – easily almost three times the size of the Orc who was average height and build for a male of his species – raised a club that was as big as she was.
The cracking gunshot echoed and the Yeti fell backwards staggering and bellowing in pain as blood flowed from its head-wound.
The caliber was too small for an instant kill like she preferred, but it set the hyena at her side off, sending Chuckles to charge forward cackling madly and attacking, going for the vulnerable hamstrings.
Three more shots rang out and the monstrous old Yeti was dead and the young Mage had clamored to his feet, dusting off his robes. Turning, he saw the figure standing on an outcropping over rocks a few feet away lowering a sniper rifle. The armor was worn, a combination of mail and leather.
Worn, but well taken care of. The helm hid away any facial details and the build was small.
Any thoughts it could be a member of his faction though, were erased the second his eyes lowered to take in the tabard the stranger wore.
Alliance.
Why?