"Break through!" General Karstly had demanded of them. "For the likes of the famed Blackthorn troops, this ought be nothing!"
The General had ceded the frontlines to them, and he'd drawn back himself, with the last thousand of their five thousand-strong army, leaving the Blackthorn troops to pave their way forward.
The second that Lord Blackthorn's name had been invoked, the troops had transformed, as had their Colonels. The battlefield was transformed into something that was exclusively theirs. There were no chains binding them anymore, nor even was there a General – not when Karstly had positioned himself so far towards the rear.
Colonel Gordry sat in the centre of their army's formation, as their impromptu General. The other two Colonels had ceded the position to him wordlessly. He was their elder, and they respected him enough to allow him the honour that they gave.
