You pull your visor up, feeling the heavenly sensation of fresh air upon your face.
You breathe heavily, still reeling from your encounter. With your visor raised, you scan the battlefield.
The situation is dire.
Dozens of your men lay dead on the field. The enemy riders are circling your vulnerable foot soldiers and tearing into them from the sides. The occasional rebel cavalrymen tumbles from his saddle, struck dead by a lucky blow.
Rade's new cavalry have formed up in front of his line. Once they charge, it'll be over.
Above all else, you're in desperate need of reinforcements.
You heft the weight of your battleaxe in your hands. There's not much you can do alone and dismounted.
The sudden blast of a horn from inside the jungle captures your attention. A small smile creeps onto your face.
Took them long enough.
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