Torric "Shouldn't we move the infantry with their shield?" Cedric grabbed his mouth with his hand, leaning his body on the rock. "No, that's stupid, they will just roll down rocks". The Lieutenant walks up slowly, the last man to reach the plateau, breathless. "What's going on here?" Cedric looks at him, his eyes light up. "Fenric, if you get a chance, can you take out the archers swiftly with your group?"
Fenric replies with a confident tone, "Yes, we will be able to take them out if we get a quick opening." Cedric smiles with pride, "Perfect! Just as I expected from you." Cedric focused his eyes on the lieutenant. "Lieutenant Borl, it's time for you to shine. You have to count the number of enemy soldiers above us; You will be supported by Silgard and Varro.n" Cedric met Silgard's eyes, then flicked his chin toward Borl. Silgard understood at once.
Tarric "This isn't right Cedric" Selara followed "Don't do this Cedric, we can come up with another way" Cedric with a cold gaze "Either this or we stay here idle while that prick takes all the glory" Selara shakes his head exhaling and distance herself, Tarric tightens his grip around his spear and clenched his jaws lowers his gaze.
Varron (Broad lines face, late 30s, 6'2 stocky with full hair and beard) "as you say, captain" Silgard (short dark hair, narrow face, steady and calm 5'9 athletic, 26) "aye"
Orlen observes in silence, Fenric prepares himself for the chaos. Varron and Silgard move with Huge shields covering Borl, Fenric and the team right behind. Just as they reach the edge of the corner, they separate themselves, creating an opening and pushing Borl out into the open. He panics and shouts, "No!! No!! Wait, wait, please help me" as he tries to get back in cover, but a barrage of arrows hits him. He wiggles around until more arrows come in. His eyes were wide open but lifeless, his blood soaking the snow red.
Cedric shouts "Now", Varron and Silgard moved swiftly placing their shields on the open with their smaller shield on top of their head, Fenric and the team popped up from behind and shot a barrage of arrows, the rebels in front dropped down, Silgard and Varron dropped their big shields and rushed upwards under the cover of the archer barrage, shouting will they charge their voice fierce like Vikings while the enemy lay injured screaming in pain, they reach the enemy position, three men lay death from the barrage of arrow 2 lay injured and another 3 draw their sword for close combat.
Silgard blocked the slash of the enemy with his shield, creating a loud thud as the blade came in contact with the wood. He used the moment to shove the enemy sword aside, creating an opening. He steadied his footing and bolted forward, stabbing him with precision and power to the heart. The enemy dropped to the ground instantly. Just then, another one comes. Silgard backs up, but the strike grazes Silgard's Face, as Silgard continues duelling with his foe.
Varron pushes the last one with his shield as he falls, he ends him with a fatal blow to the neck, and he then proceeds to stab Silgard's foe from his back, cleaning the path.
Silence filled the air as the shout from the battle was over, all the enemies lay dead, but only one from their side lay lifeless, the one whom they sacrificed to create an opening. As the soldier looks at Brol's body with a grimace, Cedric speaks up, "Brol did a great job; he sacrificed his life for the glory of this army. Does anyone have a problem with that? If not, let's proceed."
They all followed a few, questioning their resolve to follow this man who viewed his men as expendable pieces like a game of chess. They finally reached the back of the mountain. There was a huge clearing, and the grounds were uneven and filled with snow. The temperature was cold, and the chilling wind made them shiver. It was dusk when they arrived, the sky yellow as gold, bright and vibrant but cold as ice.
To their surprise, the Milaric army was engaging in full-scale battle with the bandits, but they were outnumbered, in their lies a cliff, and they were slowly being pushed back. And in a turn of events, another bandit force was already waiting to engage with Cedric's army; it was like they were playing right into the hands of the enemy.
Cedric clenched his jaw. "This is bad news. We should have never trusted that prick. He said there were 200 bandits, but look around, there are more than 400 of them."
Kaedric furrowed his eyes, "This is the strongest bandit force in the Kingdom; winning here means great reward."
Cedric, with a smirk, "You are still thinking about rewards in this life or death situation, huh, Kaedric, you are something else."
Kaedric chuckles, "I am confident we will win cause you are here with us, isn't that right, guys?"
Orlen/Torric/Selara/Darviz/Silgard/Varron/Fenric/the whole army shout: Ayeee Ayeee
Cedric, with a sharp commanding voice, "I shall not disappoint Alvyren Crest!! Torric and Silgard lead the charge, Darviz leads, Varron and Kaedric with him on the left flank, Fenric on the rear, and Orlen gauges the situation in the next battle. Selara takes care of the wounded!!
As they hype themselves up, getting ready for a head-on collision, something unexpected happened: a volley of arrows struck their left flank, soldiers dropping like flies. Another volley was released, one of those arrows piercing right through Kaedric's temple; he dropped down instantly. Fenric, trembling, his voice cracking, "How is that possible?? There is no way you can control the direction of the arrows in this wind!!"
Cedric shouts, "Halt!! Halt everyone, shield up and form a line, put shields on the top too, make a tight formation, hurry". The volley kept pouring in. Cedric, in the chaos, met eyes with a gaze so intense on the enemy front that it made him draw a step back, but he regained his composure. Once the formation was formed, they were safe from the arrows, but their numbers had dwindled to 110.
Cedric, breathing heavily, "How many casualties have we suffered, strategist Rokir?" Rokir panicky, "Uhh… uhh.. I don't know". "Huh??" Selara speaks up, "40 casualties, including Luca, Kaedric, Vorayn, Zilta, including the strategist Rokir. Kaedric too?" Cedric puts his hand on his forehead as the arrows keep thudding on the shields. Darviz is trembling. "We are in a pinch. If we try to move and our formation even breaks slightly, that will be our end. Their infantry is getting closer."
Cedric with resolve "Listen up carefully, guys. We will break into groups of 15. We will have 7 groups, six with 15 men and one with 20 men. 4 of those groups will spread out wide, while three will move south to attack the army engaging with Wilaric's force. If they successfully manage to free them, we will all be safe."
One of the men, with fear and despair in his voice, said, "That's ridiculous, you are just trying to save your own skin while we act as decoys." Torric, with a firm voice "That's enough, he is our captain." Another spoke up, "So what? It doesn't matter, we are all gonna die while he escapes!" Cedric, with a heavy voice, "I have no such intention. In fact, I plan to remain here in the middle ground. If you will not trust me, your commander, then do as you please."
Varron's eyes furrowed as he ran a hand over his long beard. "I have experienced many battles before. I am the oldest here, older even than Torric. In all my years of combat, I have never faced a situation as grim as this. If anyone else were leading us today, we would be doomed. But I have faith in this young boy. He has shown extraordinary talent, both in theory and in practice. His father is a competent general, and I had the honor of serving under him. Time and again, he proved his superiority in battle, and now I will place my trust in his son. Regardless, we have no other choice."
Cedric, with a gentle expression, "Thanks, Varron. My father speaks well of you. Either way, if any of you have any better ideas, go ahead."
Uncertainty and the grimness in the atmosphere suffocate them, but no one could bear the responsibility or had the required skill to bear the role of taking 109 men in their hands; they agreed under pressure.
Torric says, "Why don't we just divide the group into larger chunks, one holding the ground here and the other aiding the Wilaric army?"
Cedric replies "If we do that their arrows will keep hold of us, while their infantry attacks our detachment, and we will be powerless, but if we divide our force into smaller sections, we could be able to hold off their infantry since we can maneuver more freely, and the archers can't grab a hold of all of us at once."
Fenric's eyes are twitching. "It is like the archers there have a perfect sense of how the wind is moving! I thought they were just bandits?"
Cedric, with a worried gaze, "It is not the archers themselves, it is their commander. I feel that there is more to their commander I didn't mention earlier, but I saw him directing the archers' aim after every volley, and it precisely hit us every single time."
Draviz's heart thumping, his body crawling in "then there is no way we can win against such an enemy, we must retreat"