"It is far worse than we thought. The elves are spent and in flight. No Tayrian resistance is holding at this time. We're alone here." - Sums up General Tahadrias.
"What do you mean?" - Asks Lord Luciros.
"As I said my Lord. According to the information, we have gathered while in Tayria, there is no elven army remaining that is taking any somewhat noticeable action against the enemy. Which means that it leaves only us here to fight against the fehtlevites." - General bows, after rephrasing his statement.
The men gathered at the command tent quiet down, observing as the General's adjutants move various markers on the map that clearly suggest a dire situation for our crusade.
"Wait, wait, wait. But the elves had a strong, disciplined, and advanced military. I apologize my Lord, but if they fell before the risen dead and their masters, what chance do we have?" - A battle mage in blue robes inquires.
"We have the chance that our faith and righteousness grants us. Our victory is going to be a victory for the good itself! Or are you afraid to die for a just cause, Xarlingas? "
I sigh with disappointment at my fellow brother paladin. The fanatical zealot sort never inspired me personally. Faith is a great boon but it is often found in those lacking in the brain - not something we need to salvage this campaign.
"Quiet, brothers. General, are you done? Tell us of the situation at hand."
"What we have is Ten thousand infantry. Ehm... Eight hundred cavalry. Four battle-mages. Four paladins. Of course, a lot of various supply personnel and healers that are non-combatants. Ah yes, also roughly a couple hundred elven volunteers that we gathered on our way here that we could supply with provision. We have recruited them as scouts mostly, they know more about the land and situation. Their input was very valuable."
"Very good. What about that provision as of now?" - Lord Luciros asks further, suddenly getting more confident and calm as he stood majestically in gold-ornament armor with a white cloak.
"Relatively stable so far. We have not shared much with the begging locals upon our arrival, as per your order, and our supply lines have only come two caravans short. Their whereabouts are unknown, could be a local raid, could be fehtlevite ambush, they were not seen yet."
"Alright. Now, tell me, what we know of the enemy so far?"
"The information varies. We can expect anywhere from thirty thousand enemies, or up to two hundred thousand. Just as the instigators of the cultist rebellion were mostly elves, the outcome those traitors accomplished may result in almost the entire elven empire population being under their control as undead right now..."
After a bit of a silent pause, the general adds: "..That is to say, we have no clear information about their numbers. Some of the elven deserters informed us of "unkillable hordes that know no fear or exhaustion." They are potentially extremely hard to kill and are used to tire and bog down any living force before a finishing charge from the cultists, that usually comes from behind or a flank."
"By Alra..." -A voice is heard most loud, among mostly quiet, yet slightly whispering crowd of gathered officers.
"Even if they may not have all those corpses raised and walking at the moment, chances are they will have ample... Mhm... "Reserves" in piles of corpses, shall they need more bodies to raise. Of course, say even if they may have frost mages like our colleague here to keep the bodies from fast decomposition, they will most likely be in a hurry to press their advance further West as soon as they can."
I notice how lord Luciros' previously puffed chest has noticeably sunk back in. His eyes dimmed and his face looked a few years older.
"Thank you, Tahadrias, anything else?"
"Yes, my Lord. The elves have told us that the fehtlevites might have a demonic entity on their side. A very powerful one. They call him - "Bovax, the Undying." More and more cultists are gathering around his strength."
"That fiend! Is he here?!" - Exclaims the same fanatical brother Gavarlas. "The church will be happy to finally have this monster banished from our world!"
"One of the demons left from the First War? That's not good." - Lord concludes his question while rubbing the bridge of his nose after closing his eyes.
"Very well Brothers. We are here to defeat the taint which threatens to destroy our homes. We are the Crusade of Light. What hope will we bring if we turn back and leave the remaining elves to die and our homeland invaded shortly after? None. We will stain ourselves in dishonor and our faith will be tarnished."
"For Alra! For our homeland!" - A couple voices sound from the gathered group.
"None of us may return, but we will not back down! Maybe they have the numbers, maybe they have a demon, but they do not expect us to... They do not expect us to... - Lord thinks to himself for a couple of moments. "I say we find the center of this cultist infection and strike them there, where they do not expect. I will make further plans with the general and the paladins. Everyone else, you are free, return to your duties."
I take a deep breath and sigh, remembering the face of my wife and parents for a moment. A quiet thought slips by, whispering - "You may not fulfil your promise."
"Brother Paladins. I am going to have a difficult mission to be undertaken by one of you. Come closer. It may require a great sacrifice which may save this crusade."
"We are ready for anything you charge us with my Lord! What ever the task, we will die with valor fulfilling it!"
"As much as I hold your conviction in a high regard, brother Gavarlas, I would require someone with a bit more care and self-preservation for this. Your place will be here, inspiring the greater bulk of our soldiers for the battles to come. As I said. I will need a knight of greater care and subtlety to lead this charge."
The rest of the three paladins, myself included, look at each other, judging one another's skill in "self-preservation" and "subtlety", before returning our sights at the Lord who was once again politely shutting down brother Gavarlas'es attempt to be selected.
"I already made my pick, sir Gavarlas. You should refer to a virtue of humbleness and accept a charge bestowed upon you. As should one who is going to be braking off with a quarter of our force to find and lock down the cultist army which as was said, is going to be preparing to flank us while we will be struggling to destroy the zombie hordes they will send upon us."
As Lord Luciros speaks, I take a deep breath and mentally prepare myself to be chosen, realising the responsibility and suicidal risk a task of this type will hold. Part of myself is hoping to avoid being picked for it, for I have the smallest experience in troop leadership and real combat. Maybe that's going to be a factor which would play into myself being thrown away to die. - I think.
"I know, that you are all equally ready to see this task to it's end, but my choice falls to sir Cassian. I may not know this man as well as I know the rest of you, but something tells me he has great patience, restraint and responsability about him. He will not let us down. Are you ready, Domenic?"
"Y-yes. Yes, my Lord. I am ready to hold them off while you destroy their swarming hordes." - I say having already prepared for it, and taken my calming breath before.
"Good. Look at the map. I'll show you where to take your men." Lord Luciroz shows a swirling passage that goes over a mountain range which he explains I am to take. The path is avoiding all the enemy army figures. "I believe this path is going to be hiding you from our enemy's eyes, while we will be moving with the rest of our forces through here." He draws a more direct line towards a cornered ground with a hill in the center, surrounded by enemy figures."They too, take a suicidal charge here." I think.
"We will try to lure most of the enemy forces upon ourselves while holding the enemies at bay at this elevated and covered position. By luring them all upon us, I am confident that their main army is bound to show up. Chances are, since we will cover our backs with this mountain range that Sir Cassian is going to be crossing over here..." He points at my path again. "...he will end up behind the fehtlevite scum and attack the cultist camp with an element of surprise. If all goes well, his force will be buying us time, and then together, we will be attacking the zombies and their controlling necromancers from both sides."
Silence reigns as we estimate the chances of everything to go as planned, eyeing the map and our planned maneuvers.
"Questions..?"