Goodbye, said night, inviting the clear light of a winter morning. The landscape was clothed in snow; sparkles had thrown over everything in the open day with the touch of the soft sun. Fresh air stroked the birds, which were singing, and far someone could hear the mooing of cows. Sheep were lazily grazing the meadow, their woolly abundance protecting them from extreme cold. The sun spread its bounteous rays into the ground, with long shadows eloping with the animals, ensconced by snow atop their faces.
He stood atop the hill, giving him an unobstructed view of both armies. His eyes seemed to roam with an unreadable impassiveness over the valley land. By his side probably stood Ecolier, whose mixture of thrilling fear and excitement was probably reaching its limit.
"This day, a day like all the other days," Thassalor muttered, his voice a cold accompaniment. "This day is what I waited for."
This reply came from the faithful servant Ecolier with some flaring excitement, saying: "Yes, Your Majesty, this is going to be the very test of our plans and strength today, let's see how it unfolds."
The cold wind had in it a very slight sound of something out of place, crossing a snowy plain, to come round the huddle of villagers about the hut, their faces drawn up with fear and desperation as Alistair's mother let fly a raised voice from the door:.
"Please, listen!" she wept, tears falling in a stream across her cheeks. "I have lost my son. Now, I pray you let it not be bloodshed. Speak to Thassalor; persuade him not to do the thing!"
His heart thumped like lead against his ribs at the sight of his mother's anguish. He steeled himself for the worst, pacing purposefully with a set face. Then, screaming, he buckled on his armor, the chill, nipping metal against his skin. He stands there in silence for a moment, missing his son, when a tear slips down his cheek. Alistair's mother cried out for Talthon, her voice full of despair. "Please", she implored, the wide fear apparent in her very open eyes,
"don't do this; we only have you left".
Talthon, his heart heavy, turned to face her. "I know, Mother," he said, his voice steady. "But I have to try. I can't stand by while our people suffer."
His sword cut into the cold metal, biting into his palm, as he hesitated a little; he seemed to forget all his thoughts of family, village, and all that his fate had in store for him. Then resolute, he took hold of the hilt and stood.
She stood there watching him, wide eyes open in disbelief. "You're going to fight?" she asked, her voice shaking. "All your life you preached peace," she said, her voice shaking. "You've never drawn a sword except for training. Really going to break your promise now?"
He looked into her face; his eye was steady. "I am not breaking my promise," he said.
"I'm taking my sword so that I can take it to the last resort as an emblem of being ready to fight for what I believe in. If diplomatic measures fail and leave me in a corner, where I'm compelled to fight; then I'll take it, but I swear to God, I'll never kill anyone who's not causing any harm to my people. My blood shall be just on those wishing to cause harm to my people..."
His mother's eyes run. She stretches out to touch his arm with a light quivering hand. "Be careful," she whispers, just on the margins of hearing.
Talthon smiled wryly. "I shall," he promised, his voice heavy with a silent resolve. And with that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps resonating through the clean morning air.
It was just as he was getting out of the village that the wind grew keen about his face, bringing the faintest whisper of his mother's sobs. And he clenched his fists, unmoved to change his purpose of protecting the people even if death waited for him.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the village, Ecolier barked orders to the soldiers gathered there. "In position!" he yelled across the icy stretch with his ears ringing out his order.
"Yes Sir!!! "cried the Soldiers and took their Position. King Thassalor in Serious Mood Standing.".
And so he scanned Talthon, watching for that flicker of fear and doubt as he approached, keeping an intent eye on him. "He is prepared," he thought, a flash of admiration crossing his face. "A true fighting man." Ecolier broke the stillness with a voice trembling from excitement and fear. "Your Majesty, Talthon takes his own good time,"
Thassalor waved a hand over this anxiousness. "Patience, Ecolier. He knows what he's up against. He knows what they have for themselves."
He walked into the chills of the winter breeze; the sounds echoed each step he was taking, approaching the Thassalorian army. His face set with resolute determination; eyes seemed fixed on the horizon.
"You come at last, Talthon," declared Thassalor, his voice booming across the battlefield. "To your destiny."
Talthon bowed before the king, not stirring nor shifting his position. "I am here," he said calmly.
"Up!!" Thassalor said, and his voice was grim. "Remember that you chose this for yourself. There is no going back now."Thassalor stood up, and Talthon saw. "I hear," he said softly, all his voice full of soft resolve, "I have chosen this for my people and for my family, for peace."
Thassalor smiled to his satisfaction and curled his lip into a smile. "Good, then," he said. "Let the games begin!" The tension was thick and heavy in the air and crackled alongside the rustling of flags and shifting of troops. "As promised," he declared, a smug smile playing on his lips, "I present to you the army.". He ran his eyes over the length of soldiers and horses, bodies standing like troops drawn up. His heart beat rapidly in his chest; fear and purpose ran neck and neck.
"Listen," Ecolier began, his voice laced with a chilling tone. "You have only today. Tomorrow, you must march to the battlefield, a journey that will take three days. In total, you have four days to prepare."
Talthon stood rooted to the spot, his mind reeling. He had expected time to strategize, to gather his forces. Four days? It was barely enough time to rest, let alone plan for a battle against a formidable enemy like Corvus Kein.
"But we agreed on a month!" Talthon protested, his voice rising. "Why this sudden change?"
Ecolier's expression remained impassive. "The messenger returned with a message from Corvus Kein. He has granted us a mere four days to prepare for the battle."
Talthon's heart sank. This was a cruel twist of fate, a last-minute challenge that threatened to derail his plans. Yet, he knew he had no choice. He had to accept this new reality, adapt, and fight for his people.
"I understand," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Today is my preparation day. I will do my best."
Thassalor stepped forward, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. "The responsibility is now entirely yours," he declared. "Victory or defeat, it rests solely on your shoulders."
Talthon nodded, his expression resolute. He turned to face his new army, his voice echoing across the field. "Soldiers of Thassalor, you are now under my command. We face a daunting challenge, but together, we can overcome it. Prepare yourselves for battle."
The soldiers, their faces a mix of fear and determination, responded with a chorus of affirmations. Talthon, his heart heavy with the weight of responsibility, knew that the fate of his people rested on his shoulders. The time for planning was short, the stakes were high, and the enemy was formidable. But he would not give up. He would fight, with every ounce of strength he possessed, to protect his village and secure a future for his people.
"Everyone, gather at the plain one mile from here!" Talthon commanded, his voice echoing across the camp.
Thassalor, paused in his steps, turned around, and addressed Talthon with a chilling smile. "Farewell, Talthon," he said, his voice dripping with a sinister undertone.
Talthon, his heart pounding in his chest, approached Thassalor. Their hands met in a cold, formal handshake. A gust of wind swept through the air, carrying with it a sense of foreboding.
"We'll meet again soon, Talthon," Thassalor said, his smile widening.
Talthon nodded, his expression resolute. "I look forward to it," he replied, his voice barely audible over the howling wind.
As they parted ways, Thassalor watched Talthon disappear into the distance. A satisfied smirk played on his lips. "Let the games begin," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
Ecolier, his gaze following Talthon, broke the silence. "Shall we begin our journey to the designated location?"
"Yes," Thassalor replied, his voice filled with anticipation.
The Thassalorian army mounted their horses, their armor glinting in the sunlight. They rode through the snowy landscape, their hooves crunching on the frozen ground. Talthon, at the head of his newfound army, followed closely behind.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached a small hut nestled beside a winding river. The land beyond the river was a vast expanse of open plains, the perfect place for a pitched battle.
"Here we are," Ecolier announced, his voice echoing across the silent landscape. "This is where we will make our stand."
Talthon surveyed the terrain, his mind racing with tactical considerations. He knew this was a crucial moment, a chance to plan his strategy and prepare his troops for the impending conflict.
"Disperse," he commanded, his voice carrying across the wind. "Set up camp, tend to your horses. We have a long night ahead."
Talthon dismounted and approached the hut, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. A flicker of concern crossed his face as he noticed the vast expanse of land covered by Thassalor's army.
A soldier approached, holding out a quill, inkpot, and paper. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice filled with respect. "We've brought the supplies you requested."
Talthon nodded, accepting the writing materials. "Thank you," he replied. "I'll be inside, planning our strategy."
The soldier saluted and withdrew. Talthon entered the hut, his mind racing with the daunting task ahead.
Meanwhile, a conversation unfolded between Ecolier and one of the soldiers. The soldier, his voice laced with doubt, expressed his concerns about trusting Talthon.
Ecolier, his expression unreadable, replied, "Wait and see. I may not understand his motivations, but I've witnessed his skills on the battlefield. He's a formidable warrior, a strategist of the highest order. Trust in his abilities, and follow his lead."
The soldier nodded, his doubts momentarily assuaged. As Talthon delved into his plans, the soldiers worked tirelessly to set up the camp, their efforts a testament to their unwavering loyalty. The once-empty landscape was now transformed, a bustling hub of activity, a testament to the resilience and determination of the Thassalorian army.
The afternoon sun, once a source of warmth, now felt like a distant memory. A biting wind whipped across the landscape, the temperature plummeting. The soldiers, their fingers numb with cold, continued their tireless efforts to build the camp.
Inside the hut, Talthon sat at a small wooden table, his brow furrowed in concentration. A quill in hand, he sketched a rough map of the surrounding area.
"I must do this," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "I will be branded a mass murderer, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. For my family, for my people, I will fight."
He closed his eyes, picturing the faces of his loved ones. Their fear, their hope, their unwavering belief in him. He would not let them down.
Talthon stood up, his body aching from the prolonged sitting. He stepped outside, the cold air stinging his face. The river, its surface froze over, stretched out before him. He approached the riverbank, his gaze scanning the opposite shore.
He unsheathed his sword, the blade glinting in the fading light. He sat there and saw the River Shining, He then Closed his eyes and suddenly said, "No need....." a silence occurred he then opened his eyes and saw his back and then closed again.
He then Stood Up Turned and Walked back, towards the hut.
A soldier approached, his face etched with concern. "Master Talthon, we're running out of time. When will you be ready?"
Talthon paused, his mind racing. "Three hours," he replied, his voice firm. "I need time to finalize my plan and conduct a practice drill."
The soldier nodded, his relief evident. "As you wish, Master Talthon."
Talthon entered the hut once more, his mind focused on the task at hand. He unfurled the map, his eyes scanning the terrain. He marked key points, plotted routes, and devised a battle strategy. Hours passed, and the only sound was the scratching of his quill on the parchment.
Finally, he stood up, stretching his tired muscles. In his hands, he held six rolled-up pieces of paper, each containing a vital part of his plan. He had devised a strategy, a risky but necessary gamble to defeat Thassalor's forces and protect his people.
Talthon, his voice firm, addressed his troops. "Follow me," he commanded, his eyes scanning the assembled soldiers.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, Talthon led his troops out of the hut. The cold wind whipped at their faces, a stark reminder of the harsh realities they faced.
Talthon stood before his soldiers, his gaze sweeping across their faces. "Listen closely," he began, his voice carrying across the gathering darkness. "We will be divided into five groups. General Ecolier will select the most skilled warriors from among you to join him. The remaining soldiers will be divided into groups G1, G2, G3, G4, and G5."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd. This was a bold strategy, a departure from the traditional battle formations.
Talthon continued, his voice unwavering. "Group 1 will be our counterattack force, ready to respond to any unexpected threats. Group 2 will be our silent attackers, infiltrating the enemy lines. This group will require expert crossbowmen and archers. Group 3 and 4 will form the main fighting force, accompanying me into the heart of the battle. The specific tactics for these groups will be revealed as the battle unfolds, depending on the circumstances."
The soldiers exchanged glances, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension. This was a complex plan, a testament to Talthon's strategic brilliance.
"Does anyone have any questions?" Talthon asked, his voice firm.
A moment of silence passed, broken only by the howling wind. Then, a soldier stepped forward, his face etched with doubt. "Master Talthon, this plan seems... ambitious. How can we possibly coordinate so many moving parts?"
Talthon smiled, a flicker of confidence in his eyes. "We will succeed through discipline, teamwork, and unwavering determination," he replied. "I trust in your abilities, soldiers. Together, we will prevail."
The soldiers nodded, their doubts momentarily assuaged. They had chosen to follow Talthon, to trust in his leadership. Now, it was time to put their faith to the test. As the night deepened, the soldiers began to practice their formations, their movements precise and coordinated. Talthon, his eyes fixed on the horizon, watched them with a sense of hope. The battle was imminent, the stakes were high, but he believed in his plan, in his people, and in the unwavering spirit of resistance that burned within them.
A soldier, his voice filled with doubt, broke the silence. "What about our backup plan? What if they launch a counterattack, and we lose soldiers?"
Talthon closed his eyes, his mind racing. "I've considered that," he replied, his voice firm. "But remember, our greatest strength lies in our unity and our willingness to sacrifice for the greater good. If we fight as one, with unwavering determination, we will prevail."
A murmur of uncertainty rippled through the crowd. Talthon could sense their fear, their doubts. He knew he had to reassure them, to instill in them the belief that victory was within their grasp.
"Listen," he said, his voice rising. "I have a plan, a carefully devised strategy. But it will only work if you execute it flawlessly. You must fight with everything you have, with unwavering courage and unwavering loyalty."
The soldiers nodded, their determination renewed. Talthon continued, his voice filled with a sense of urgency. "Group 1, pay close attention. I mean there is no Group 1 But When Groups are Made then apply these, There's a small hill nearby, and I suspect it's hiding a group of archers. Your mission is to eliminate them swiftly and silently. Remember, they are our first line of defense."
He placed the map which was in his hand and pinned that and pointed to a section of the map . "There's also a grassy area, likely concealing another group of soldiers. Use your stealth and your skill to infiltrate their ranks and neutralize them. Remember, surprise is our greatest weapon."
Talthon paused, allowing his words to sink in. Then, he raised his voice. "And most importantly, we must deceive them. We must make them believe we are weak, that we are on the brink of defeat. Let them underestimate us, let them grow complacent. That's when we strike, with devastating force."
The soldiers, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement, listened intently. They had never heard such a complex, yet brilliant strategy. Talthon's words, filled with a mix of confidence and cunning, had ignited a spark of hope within them.
The soldiers, their faces a mix of awe and disbelief, murmured amongst themselves. "Can he really pull this off?" one soldier whispered to another. "This is beyond anything I've ever seen."
Talthon, his gaze fixed on the horizon, ignored the chatter. He had poured his heart and soul into this plan, his mind racing with countless possibilities.
"That's all," he said, his voice carrying across the gathering crowd. "Now, go, prepare yourselves for battle."
As the soldiers dispersed, Ecolier approached Talthon. "You've outdone yourself, Talthon," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "This plan is nothing short of brilliant."
Talthon nodded, a modest smile playing on his lips. "I hope it works," he replied. "But I believe it will."
Talthon started to move and then reached near the Horse.
"I will be coming in a few hours, .. I will come back there is something I have to do....." said Talthon while walking towards the horse.
"I do too," Ecolier said. "I'll get the soldiers organized. We'll be ready when you return."
Talthon turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the fading light. "I'll be back before nightfall," he said over his shoulder.
"Something Important.." Horses Knees and then started to run Talthon left and Left Ecolier Knowing.
"You Majesty!!..." a soldier came near to the Ecolier. "Will he come back???...or left us here....???" Said the soldier with a small concerned smile.
"He will...As Far As I Know, He is Loyal On his tongue...You better get going and ready for the Bonfire before winter's Come...." replied and commanded Ecolier.
"I...I understood...Your Majesty...." said that soldier and rushed back to the camp.
Talthon rode, the wind whipping against his face, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. He knew time was running out. He had to act quickly, decisively.
He slowed his horse, his eyes scanning the horizon. There, in the distance, he saw the familiar silhouette of FarmYard. A wave of emotion washed over him, a bittersweet mix of longing and determination.
He dismounted, his boots sinking into the snow. The Farm With the Barn, The sheep, cows, and chickens are creating noise from there, it was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, the smoke from the chimneys curling lazily into the sky. He took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs.
It was Dravean's Farmhouse. Dravean was There Working taking Firewoods from the Dead Trees. Dravean was Distracte