Footsoldiers of the Cathars stood at the base of the Sanctuary's hill.
They were a few hundred at most, and their roles were rather ornamental—not particularly instrumental in the grand scheme of the battle. As they stood on the plains, gripping their weapons and shifting in their uncomfortable armor, like the inexperienced men that they were, they kept their eyes straight; focused on the Dry Woods a distance ahead.
These men had never seen battle before, and they wouldn't even know what to do with a weapon, even if it was placed in their hands—which they were.
Still, they remained in their organized positions all day due to their superior's command.
Their role?
To draw out the enemies and get them as close to the hill as possible so that the projectiles shot by the ranged fighters would kill as many of them as possible. By the time the enemies would realize what was happening, a lot of their troops would have died.
