Prian stood on the precipice of a small peak at the end of the last ridge leading down to Fort Kitsu. A vast, sprawling valley laid out before him where the Thlenir mountains ended and ran all the way to the Rioshi mountains in the distance. One hundred miles or more across at the widest point and yet now, it looked small. The valley was filled with hundreds of cook fires and thousands of tents.
It looked like the entirety of a nation emptied out across the plain. Though, now, Prian knew that this was but a fraction of the fighting force of Edoria. A veritable sea of warriors rippled with movement like blades of grass in the wind. The soldiers were clad in armor of various colors representing different companies and territories. Beasts of burden and assault joined the fray at various intervals.
Siege engines, crafted from the mighty oaks that spotted the forests at the base of the mountains, stood ready to rain stone on the ancient fortress. Mana flowed freely despite the density of mages and awakened, even a year ago the ambient mana would have never sustained such a force. A baggage train that ran for miles to the mouth of the valley showed the intent to conquer and occupy.
Amidst the sea of soldiers stood the massive gray structure that had loomed over Prian during his half year of strike team training. It was an imposing sight, even from this high up the ridge. A marvel of ancient architecture from a time when craftsmen and mages were far more powerful and able. Giant slabs of granite molded together with magic, impenetrable to any natural force, even weather had failed to diminish the strength of Kitsu’s walls.
Unique of the fortresses of Agorra, Kitsu was built in the shape of a star. Every approach would face archer and ballista fire from two sides once in range. Towering spires adored each wall at fixed intervals, allowing for observation of the entire valley. The sun was at its peak now, the spires casting long shadows over the sieging forces.
A grunt sounded at his side and he turned to see Thuklu standing next to him. The wind this high was deafening, no conversation could be had. None needed to be had, the situation was laid bare for all to see. If the Speaker was truthful, a full forty thousand troops were in the valley. Kitsu could house a garrison of twenty thousand during a siege, but the Third Army numbered less than ten.
Even if reinforcements were sent from Agorath or another valley, the Edorians would still outnumber them. It was a grim realization, and it made him feel as cold on the inside as the wind did on the outside. Prian loved his country, he joined the army knowing full well he may die for it. That day felt much closer than ever before.
Prian shared a look with Thuklu before turning and moving back down the ridge. Wolf company and the Thoiri would be making their way by now, he needed to report. The situation was as grim as expected. The captain would have tough decisions to make.
—-
Amelia crouched down behind the thorny bushes growing wild on the side of the dirt path. The sun was setting and providing An old trader path, rarely traveled before the Edorian supply train began to use it. Wolf company was spread out half a mile and within striking distance of the long chain of wagons moving north. She shared a quick look with Nelson before moving down the line towards the end.
The captain wanted the two of them to bookend the assault. Amelia reached out to her core without circulating and felt it rumble in response. Her confidence was riding high after the successful attack on the Edorian camp outside the outpost. Wolf company left two soldiers to injured to fight, while the Thoiri lost twenty seven.
A crushing silence permeated through the dusk. She felt eyes on her back and had to steel her nerve to prevent her from spinning around and chasing ghosts. Once the captain gave the signal, Wolf company would collapse on the supply train over the entire half mile. It would be impossible to mount a defense that wide, Alton hoped to neuter the Edorians plans for a sustained siege.
The stillness of the evening is suddenly shattered by the distant rumble of wagons and the muffled sounds of the Edorian supply train as it approaches. Amelia feels her heart race, not with fear, but with the adrenaline of impending combat. Her hand grips the hilt of her sword, the metal cool and reassuring against her skin. Her senses sharpen, attuned to every rustle of leaves and every shift in the breeze.
As the supply train drew near, Amelia gave the signal to prepare. Swords were silently pulled from their sheaths and arrows placed against bowstrings. She closed her eyes and reached down to her core, feeling the power thrumming within. Amelia opened her eyes and exhaled slowly, holding up an open palm and then closing her fist.
Like a thunderbolt from a great storm, Wolf Company erupted from their hiding place, a phantom storm of steel and fury descending upon the Edorians. The ambush was swift and merciless, a blur of motion as Amelia led her warriors into the fray.
The defenders of the baggage train, caught off guard by the sudden and ferocious assault, scrambled to meet the onslaught. The air filled with the clash of steel, shouts of combatants, and the frantic neighing of horses.
Amelia, leading from the front, was a vision of controlled fury. Her sword was an extension of her will, and danced deadly arcs through the air. Each strike was precise and lethal. Her body exhaulted in the euphoria of her mana circulating freely.
Around her, the members of Wolf Company fought with a discipline honed by recent battles, their movements synchronized in a ballet of destruction. They moved through the defenders with relentless momentum, their advance as inexorable as the tide. Thoiri and Agorran fought side by side.
The baggage train, a lifeline for the Edorian army, was sprawling and poorly defended. It’s protectors not expecting an attack so deep within what they believed to be secure territory. Wagons laden with supplies became obstacles in the melee, some overturned in the fray, their contents spilling onto the dirt road.
Nelson, on the other flank, mirrored Amelia's ferocity, leading his group with a wild energy that inspired his comrades. His large tower shield absorbed blow after blow, unyielding. The company cut through the baggage train's defense, their goal not just to disrupt but to demolish the enemy's ability to wage a prolonged siege.
In the midst of the battle, Amelia found herself face to face with a towering Edorian, his armor adorned with the insignia of a high-ranking officer. The clash between them was electric, each blow from the Edorian heavy held the threat of death. Amelia parried and dodged with a grace that belied the ferocity of her counterattacks, finding gaps in his armor with the precision of a master surgeon.
A surge empowered her body and she slipped in and out of his sword range, leaving deep gashes each time. Her sword glowed with the soft blue of mana infusion and overpowered the Edorian armor. She received several hits in return but her drake scale armor easily deflected them.
Around them, the battle raged on. Thoiri archers, positioned strategically along the ridge, loosed volleys of arrows into the chaos, each shaft finding its mark among the defenders with deadly efficiency. The synergy between Wolf Company and their Thoiri allies was a testament to their unity of purpose and the trust forged in the heat of battle.
As the last of the baggage train's defenders fell, the members of Wolf Company regrouped, breathing heavily but triumphant. The wreckage of the baggage train lay scattered across the road, a testament to their victory.
Amelia, scanning the horizon, knew that the true challenge lay ahead in the looming siege of Fort Kitsu. This victory, though significant, was but the first step in the plan to break the siege of Kitsu. She assigned soldiers to gather supplies from the train and prepare to return to the cover of the mountains. Amelia walked off to find the captain and get the next phase underway.
---
In the dim light of their small hidden camp, after their successful raid on the Edorian supply train, Alton, Amelia, Miser, and Prian gather around a roughly sketched map of the valley and the sprawling Edorian encampment. Their faces were etched with the weariness of battle yet burned with determination. The wreckage of the baggage train bolstered their spirits, but they knew the real challenge was yet to come.
Alton, his side bandaged but his spirit undiminished, lays out the framework of their audacious next move. "We've struck a powerful opening blow against them," he starts, his voice steady, "but now we need to draw them out, fragment their forces. A direct assault on their encampment would be doomed, but if we can lure them into the mountains, into the terrain where we hold the advantage.”
“I know you are all new to this. This is not a situation I have myself been in, all we have is theoretical knowledge. Our forces are superior soldier to solider but we are heavily out-numbered. We need to make the most of our advantages. I want to hear everyones thoughts, this is no time for shyness.” Alton ordered.
Amelia leans in, her eyes scanning the terrain features marked on the crude map. "If we hit their fringes here facing the east, we could provoke them into pursuing us into the mountains," she suggests, her lessons from the academy surfacing. "The ridges and valleys could become our allies, breaking their numbers, diminishing their strength and enhancing ours."
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Prian, who had been silent, studying the map, finally speaks. "The key will be mobility and misdirection. We split into smaller units, hit multiple points along their perimeter simultaneously. It will create confusion, make our numbers seem greater than they are. And when they retaliate, we vanish into the mountains, leading them on a chase they're not ready for."
The plan begins to take shape, a dance of feints and strikes designed to exploit the enemy's weaknesses and turn the terrain to their advantage. Alton nods, approval in his eyes. They mapped out a route through a set of tight hills that would force the Edorians in a line, at best two soldiers wide.
"We'll need to coordinate closely, ensure that every unit knows their part in this. Amelia, take Miser and command of the ambushing force. Prian, spread your best scouts out to communicate the enemies positioning and approach to the ambush site.”
---
Amelia chose a narrow pass between two large hills as the stage for the ambush. The chosen location, a dirt path snaking its way through the natural corridor, provided the perfect bottleneck to limit the enemy’s numbers advantage and maximize the impact of their forces.
Under the veil of night, Amelia and her team begin the meticulous preparation for the ambush. She divides the two hundred strong contingent into specialized units, each with a distinct role in the upcoming battle. The largest portion of her force, skilled archers from the ranks of both the Thoiri are positioned on the elevated ridges of the hills.
Below, at the narrowest point of the path, Amelia assigns two groups of infantry under Miser and Nelson. These soldiers would be anvil upon which the enemy will be broken. Forming a formidable shield wall that will halt the advance of any who make it past the deadly hail from above.
Lastly, Amelia positions a flanking force, hidden by the folds of the terrain and the shadows cast by the twilight and led by Prian. This contingent, comprised of their most agile and fierce warriors, including both Agorrans and Thoiri, was the closing jaw of the trap.
Once engaged, they would emerge from their concealment. The Edorians would be caught between the shield walls, cutting off any hope of retreat or reinforcement. Their surprise attack will not only serve as a physical assault but a psychological blow, sowing chaos and fear through the enemy ranks.
With the plans laid and the roles assigned, Amelia moved among her troops, her presence a calming influence. It calmed her as well, being among her soldiers. She tried not to think about the captain leading the probing assault and focused on preparing herself for the next stage. Her core rolled in anticipation.
---
Alton and Thuklu cloaked in stealth and aggression, lead a razor-sharp probing assault against the periphery of the Edorian encampment under the cloak of darkness. Their strategy was simple: strike swiftly, strike hard, and ignite chaos within the enemy ranks before vanishing like phantoms into the night.
With a select group of their most skilled warriors, they navigate the silent shadows, approaching the camp with the lethal precision of hunters stalking their prey. The first indication the Edorians had of the attack was the whisper of blades drawing from sheaths and the sudden, stifling fear that grips their sentries as they're silently dispatched before alarms can be sounded.
As more of Alton's force infiltrates the camp, tents are set ablaze, casting an ominous glow that begins to dance across the night sky, turning shadows into a macabre performance of flickering despair. The flames, hungry and indiscriminate, consumed supplies and shelter alike, sending a clear message of defiance to the heart of the Edorian army.
In the ensuing chaos, Alton, Thuklu, and their warriors move like a tempest, unstoppable and fierce. Each encounter with the enemy is brief and brutal; they leave behind a trail of confusion and death, a testament to their ferocity and skill. Alton, in the thick of the fray, is a specter of vengeance, his sword cutting down any who stand in their path.
Alton flared his mana brightly, trying to draw out elites. He infused both blades and used them liberally on the hapless defenders. Fang and Fury sliced through the half-armored and asleep warriors with ease. Alton roared and heard it repeated among his force, adding a factor of fear to the assault.
More soldiers fell before the fury of his blades. He met none to challenge him and lost himself at moments in the battle lust. Alton didn’t want to enjoy the violence and carnage, he told himself it was the thrill of the fight that he sought above all. His core fell to three fourths so he tapped the reservoir on Fang and topped his mana levels off.
The enemy began to rally, forming a response to the unexpected assault. Alton saw the moment to enact the next phase of the plan. With a bellow that cuts through the clamor of battle, he ordered a retreat. His voice, edged with feigned panic, signals his warriors to withdraw, leading the now-alerted Edorian forces to believe they've gained the upper hand.
The retreat was a calculated farse designed to draw the enemy out from the safety of their numbers and into the trap meticulously prepared by Amelia and her contingent. Alton and Thuklu began the dangerous game of leading the enemy on a chase, weaving through the terrain with the Edorians in hot pursuit.
Their path was deliberate, guiding the Edorians ever closer to the ambush site between the two hills. They slowed and fought back to ensure the enemy remained engaged. Every turn, every feigned stumble was part of the intricate dance to ensure the enemy followed. Blinded by the prospect of an easy victory against the retreating forces, the Edorians charged head first.
—
Prian estimated six hundred Edorians in the pursuing force. He signaled ahead to his fellow scout on a hill just in sight with quick signals. The scout would turn and relay the message across all the way back to Amelia. Prian walked down the hill to his flanking force and prepared them to follow behind.
---
In the shadowed confines of the narrow valley, nestled between two formidable hills, the silence was a tangible force. It pressed down on every soldier hidden within the brush and behind the rocks. Amelia's heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but anticipation.
Her eyes were sharp and piercing as she scanned the terrain. She watched as the Edorian forces, oblivious to their impending doom, chased confidently into the valley. The moment they pass the hidden markers, she signaled the archers to prepare to fire. Bows are drawn and arrows nocked. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as a chill crept down her spine.
With a swift, decisive motion, Amelia signaled the archers. In an instant, the quiet of the morning was shattered as arrows, like deadly whispers, rained down upon the Edorians. Confusion and panic spread through their ranks like wildfire, their ordered march descending into chaos. The commanders tried to rally them into a defensive position.
But Amelia didn’t allow them a moment to regroup. She signaled her infantry, who, with a roar that seems to shake the very earth, surged over the hilltops. They descended upon the enemy with a ferocity that is both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Each soldier of Wolf Company, their armor glinting in the scant light that filtered down into the valley, became an instrument of destruction.
While the infantry charged, archers continued to fire down into the valley. The arrows were having a devastating effect on the tired soldiers. A few turned and tried to continue running down the path, some tried to retreat. A few even charged the infantry pounding down the hills towards them.
On the northern end of the valley, Alton, and his company turned and set a defensive position. They were the anvil to Amelia's hammer, closing off any hope of retreat. Alton pulled both blades free and ignited them with mana. The opposing sight crumpled the courage of the soldiers trying to escape the valley.
Prian, with his scouts, completed the encirclement from the south. They move like shadows, swift and silent, their arrival unnoticed until it's too late for the Edorians. The valley, once a passageway, becomes a killbox, with no exit and no mercy.
The battle that was unfolding was brutal and unforgiving. Amelia waited just long enough on the hilltop to see the plan enacted. Once Prian closed the valley, she circulated and bounded down the hill to join her soldiers.
Her sword was a blur as she cut down the first soldier she came across. She ducked a retalitory strike and whipped her infused blade upwards, taking off the soldiers arm. Amelia stepped forward and stabbed through his gut, using his body as a shield and her momentum as a bludgeon. Her troops followed her lead, their discipline shined in the midst of chaos.
Arrows continue to fly, finding marks with deadly accuracy, thanks to the Thoiri archers positioned along the ridges. The Edorian line began to collapse in sections. Wolf company pounced on any that broke, turning and creating chaos up and down the valley.
Amelia finished cutting down a group of Edorian heavies and watched the section of the line before her collapse. Thoiri tribesmen whooped and Agorrans howled, turning and devastating any Edorians caught off-guard. She stepped back up the hill to get a better vantage and watched the battle end in a whimper.
As the dust settled and Amelia looked out over the valley, a scene of devastation met her eyes. The victory was undeniable. They have not only decimated a significant force of the Edorian army but have also sent a clear message: Agorra will not fall easily.
---
As the adrenaline from the battle faded and the stark reality of their situation settled, Alton, Prian, Nelson, and Amelia gathered in the dawn light. The debris of the battle served as a grim backdrop to their council, a constant reminder of the cost of their victory and the daunting path that lay ahead.
"We can’t assume the same tactic will work twice," Alton began, his voice carrying the weight of command and the wisdom born from years of combat.
Prian, still flushed with the triumph of their ambush, nodded in agreement. “I think it would be worth trying to probe the perimeter again.”
Miser, leaning heavily on his shield in exhaustion, spoke up. "The mountains mask our numbers. If we fight on an open field we would be hard pressed to disengage. We should continue harassing the baggage trains and make them come to us.”
Amelia, her mind thinking through strategies and outcomes, added, "And while they focused on chasing us, we can use the mountains to dip in and out of. If we leave flanking forces and scouts scattered, it will be hard for them to surprise us.”
Alton, thoughtful, turned to Prian. "I needed you to lead a team through the mountains, to Kitsu. It is a perilous journey, but if anyone could navigate those treacherous paths, it’s you."
Prian straightened and thought it over for a second. "What message did you wish me to carry?" he asked.
"Tell the command at Kitsu that we are still fighting," Alton replied, his gaze piercing the gathering dusk. "Tell them of our victory here and that we plan to continue our harassment of the Edorian forces. We would coordinate an attack from the outside, a pincer movement, if they could sortie from Kitsu. It could give us the edge we needed."
The plan was bold, fraught with danger and uncertainty, yet in the eyes of those gathered, there was a flicker of hope. In a war where the odds were stacked so heavily against them, audacity and the element of surprise were their greatest allies.
Prian nodded, already considering the best route, the members of his team, and the supplies they would need for the journey. "I will leave within the hour," he declared, determination set in his features.
“Take a communicator stone and leave the paired one with Letty. Stay in contact until it gets out of range. Be careful, no unnecessary risks. Travel as deep in as you can to avoid Edorian scouts. See if any Thoiri know the area.” Alton added before he dismissed Prian.
“Wolf company will prepare to travel south and look for any other Edorian forces or supplies left in the valley. It will take Prian several days to reach Kitsu and relay the message. We are going to wreak havoc on these invading scum.” Alton gave them a fierce smile. “The Thoiri will stay here and hold this position under the command of Thuklu.”