The charge came from both sides of the village at once, a tidal wave of Hobgoblins being chased by clusters of Ogres.
"Well, it's been nice knowing you." The old gunslinger sighed as he reached down into his wagon to grab another bandolier.
He methodically loaded the rounds from boxes of ammunition as they sat on the roof of their wagons and watched their doom approach. Going inside the village was unlikely to change much except their time of death, and their skills would be needed on the battlefield.
The gates of the city slammed shut, and Dominic heard something being piled against the back of them. Most likely wagons full of rocks to keep the Ogres from smashing in the gates.
But that also meant that the slower moving farmers had nowhere left to hide. So, they all turned towards the Capital and continued to run.
The attackers wouldn't care about a few unarmed families, and if the threat was here, then anywhere else should be safer.
