Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Canna, Flora, and Elandra descended deeper into the bowels of the slavehouse, the air growing thicker and fouler with each step. The stench of rot, sweat, and despair clung to the walls like a suffocating fog. The light from their lanterns flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows across the damp stone walls.

As they moved, the sound of distant battles echoed through the corridors, a grim reminder of the chaos that raged above.

This was the lowest level of the slavehouse, where the most dangerous and powerful prisoners were kept. Each cell held a being of immense strength, their wills broken, their bodies shackled with heavy chains and bound by powerful magic. The atmosphere was heavy with a palpable tension, as if the very walls were aware of the power contained within them.

Canna walked cautiously, his senses heightened. Flora and Elandra flanked him, their expressions stern as they prepared for whatever might come. The cells were lined with beings that had once been feared, now reduced to mere shadows of their former selves. Canna's heart ached as he took in the sight of these powerful creatures, some of whom were little more than emaciated husks.

As they reached the last row of cells, Canna felt a shiver run down his spine. The aura here was different—darker, more oppressive. The last few cells were sealed with layers of magical wards, their occupants hidden from view by thick iron doors reinforced with runes.

Suddenly, Canna received a telepathic message from Vorgrim. His voice was strained, a sign of the intense battle he and the others were facing. "Master, the enemy numbers are increasing. We're already engaging the forces of the kingdom. They've sent reinforcements. We're holding them off, but it's getting tougher."

Canna's expression hardened. He quickly relayed his orders. "Mortem, support Vorgrim and Grimruk immediately. Prioritize getting them to a safe spot where they can enter the domain. We can't afford to lose anyone."

"Understood, Master," Mortem replied, his voice echoing with resolve.

With that settled, Canna refocused on the task at hand. He stepped up to the last cell, a sense of foreboding washing over him. The door was larger than the others, and the runes that adorned it were more intricate, pulsing with a malevolent energy.

Canna pressed his hand against the door, feeling the power within. He exchanged a glance with Flora and Elandra, who both nodded in silent agreement. They knew that whatever lay behind this door would not be easily dealt with.

With a deep breath, Canna channeled his mana into the door, disrupting the runes and breaking the seals. The door creaked open with a groan, revealing the prisoner within.

Canna's eyes widened in shock. The last slave in the cell was a black orc, and not just any black orc—this one was massive, even by orc standards. His muscles were like coiled steel, and his skin was the darkest shade of black, almost blending with the shadows of the cell. Chains wrapped around his limbs and torso, binding him to the wall, but even in this state, the orc's presence was overwhelming.

The orc's eyes, glowing with a fierce red light, locked onto Canna's. There was a fire in them that hadn't been extinguished despite the years of imprisonment. The orc's aura was one of raw power, barely contained by the magic that bound him.

Canna stepped closer, his mind racing. This black orc was unlike any he had encountered before, even Grimruk. There was something ancient about him, something that hinted at a power that had not been seen in ages.

"Who are you?" Canna asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

The orc's deep voice rumbled like distant thunder. "I am Razgath, last of the Bloodborn Clan. They called me the Destroyer, the Warbringer. And now, I am nothing more than a prisoner in this forsaken place."

Canna felt a chill run down his spine. The Bloodborn Clan was a name he had heard only in Grimruk's stories, a special clan of black orcs who were said to be unmatched in battle, their strength and fury legendary. If this orc was truly Razgath, then he was a being of immense power, feared by many.

"Why are you here, Razgath?" Canna asked, his voice softening.

Razgath let out a bitter laugh. "Because they feared me. They feared what I could do, what I would do. So they betrayed me, bound me in these chains, and left me to rot in this pit. They thought they could contain my rage, my power. But they were wrong.

Even now, I feel it burning within me, waiting to be unleashed."

Canna stepped forward, his eyes locking with Razgath's. "I'm here to free you. To give you a chance to reclaim your life. But you must choose—do you want to live as a slave, or will you fight for your freedom?"

Razgath stared at Canna, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I will fight. I will fight for my freedom, and for the honor of my clan."

Canna raised his hand, and with a surge of mana, shattered the chains that bound Razgath. The orc stumbled forward, his body weak from years of captivity, but his spirit was unbroken.

Flora and Elandra moved quickly, supporting Razgath as he struggled to stand. Canna placed a hand on the orc's shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "You're free now, Razgath. But there's a battle raging above us. Will you join me?"

Razgath's eyes gleamed with a fierce determination. "Lead the way, and I will bring ruin to those who dare stand in our path."

Canna nodded, turning to lead the way out of the cell. But as they moved, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The kingdom of Arenthia had made a grave mistake by imprisoning Razgath, and now, they would face the consequences.

The group moved swiftly through the corridors, with Razgath slowly regaining his strength as they ascended. The sounds of battle grew louder as they approached the upper levels, and Canna knew that the real fight was about to begin.

As they emerged from the depths of the slavehouse, Canna could see the chaos that had erupted. Vorgrim and Grimruk were locked in fierce combat with the kingdom's forces, while Mortem's undead army held the line. The air was thick with the smell of blood and magic, and the ground shook with the force of the ongoing battle.

Canna felt a surge of power as he stepped into the fray, with Razgath by his side. The time for stealth was over. Now, it was time for war.

And as the battle raged on, Canna always eyed the area, he had to find the right moment to open up the portal and for all his people to make a quick exit