The King of Lazica surveyed the assembled troops. The chill air of the eight month, bit at his exposed cheeks, a stark contrast to the warmth of the furs lining his heavy cloak.
Before him stood a contingent of soldiers, carefully chosen for their loyalty to him and their combat prowess, their armor gleaming dully under the overcast sky.
They were the finest warriors under his command. Their faces, though grim, held a quiet confidence born from years of rigorous training and countless victories.
Today, however, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon the King. The mission before them was delicate, potentially fraught with peril.
Desa, a border city, was at the range of Ereian attacks if they want to. The city was just hours away from the Tortuga Fortress which was occupied by a more than twenty thousand Ereian army.
