Ummmm I know this has nothing to do with fighting games but I like Warcraft a lot, soooooooooooooooo:
Lord Aerin stood high above the coastal parapets overlooking the island citadel of Dun Algaz. Far below, waves battered against the cliff rocks. The darkness concealed the broken and mutilated corpses that were being regurgitated by the sea - the shores of Stromgarde had not tasted blood in a long time.
The attack had come with quick and brutal devastation. Many of the soldiers under his command had never fought in a war before, certainly not one of this magnitude. Many did not, and could not comprehend the grave reality of this conflict. And who could blame them? The survivors of the first great war were far and few between. The Orcs had first arrived on the continent of Azeroth seven years ago, when the archmage Medivh struck a deal with them and opened a rift connecting their world to ours. He had sold out humankind for a mere spellbook. The few survivors from Azeroth fled to Lordaeron, led by their King, Anduin Lothar, and brought with them vivid tales of savage bloodthirsty creatures. Creatures whose lust for blood allowed them to attack in suicidal droves, creatures whose brute raw power allowed them to withstand the blows of sword and arrow, creatures who delighted in the slaughter of humans. Many of his soldiers simply dismissed these tales as fantastic embellishments. And what of the dark rumors of the orcish death knights who cast necromantic spells that summoned forth daemonic beings? Their tales bordered on that of the rantings of lunatics.
Very few believed. And yet today marked a grim and harsh awakening for many. His command outpost had not been the only that had been sacked. The nation of Stromgarde had been hit hard and fast in a concentrated attack all along its coastal shores. Stromgarde, long known for its militant discipline and rigid martial law had grown lax over the years and was not prepared. Aerin’s own men had been slaughtered by the dozen. Grim orcs carrying massive battle axes cleaved his soldiers in two, as fierce trolls with blood shot eyes threw sharped axes with a cold and fatal precision.
Aerin had given the order to fall back. They had been prepared for the worst, and yet the orcs suddenly left as quickly and as forcefully as they had arrived. An eerie silence had fallen over the battle field broken by the occasional caw of the carrion bird. Why had the orcs left?