The news came as a surprise to everyone.

Various questions had been floating around camp unanswered, the biggest and most concerning of which was in regard to the dozens of skirmishes that had taken place throughout the month.

Yes, they had successfully warded off the last push, but the price they paid was heavy. The barricades and ramparts had been brought down, the war banners left in tatters. Supplies were meager, but the men were even worse off. Less than fifty remained, although in reality nearly half of them weren’t in fighting condition.

Knowing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they discovered that the Khods weren’t going to organize another push. For some odd reason, they insisted on sending small parties to Dagridge to wage small scale battles.

Sure, the near daily battles took a toll on the soldiers, but it was much better than having to deal with another full scale siege. They naturally took advantage of this time.

The fort’s walls were rebuilt, this time even taller than the last. The poorly equipped footmen were now armed with better weapons and sturdier armor, spoils of war scavenged from the corpses of the enemy. Of course the rookies, hardened and wisened by combat, were trained to use their gear to full effect.

Morale was still piss poor, but a newfound confidence was beginning to bud within the ranks. A small hope was blossoming: maybe, just maybe, they could pull through now.

It’s no surprise then that they were so disheartened by the report.

***

The feeble morning sun had just begun to creep up over the horizon. The men stood huddled around the wooden table, shivering in their threadbare blankets.

The co-commander, Stromund, had called everyone for an urgent meeting. The atmosphere was grim, the look on Stromund’s face told them that something had gone very wrong.

He cleared his throat, breaking the suffocating silence.

“As you know, we’ve been skirmishing with the Khods for a few weeks now.” He looked around, trying to spot any reaction whatsoever from the crowd. He found none.

“Well...it seems we’ve found the reason.”

Everyone tensed up. The question had been unnerving them for the better part of the month. There was something unsettling about how the Khods were acting, and seeing as to how grave the atmosphere was, they weren’t about to get the answer they’d hoped for.

No one dared to make a sound. Everyone held their breath in painful anxiety.

After a brief pause, he finally spit it out.

“They’re building siege engines.”

The men couldn’t contain their anguish. The tougher ones groaned, clawing at their scalps. Some cried, some wailed, some even began laughing, losing themselves to the madness of it all. The less fortunate ones slumped to their knees, dejected and broken, husks of men.

Everything they’d been fighting for, all the blood they split and all the lives they’d taken, all the suffering they’d endured and all the comrades that they’d sacrificed,

It was all in vain.

Malt, however, didn’t see why this was such a catastrophic event. Sure, a few trebuchets would be hard to deal with, but the circumstances were so dire that it probably wouldn’t make that much of a difference.

Malt nudged Henry with his elbow, “Aren’t these guys overreacting a little?”

Henry, who also similarly distressed (albeit not as much so as the other soldiers), shook his head. “No, this really is bad news.”

Malt tilted his head questioningly, “I mean, they’re big and powerful, but they should be easy enough to deal with if we send Geld in right?”

Henry began running his hands through his hair feverishly, obviously stressed. “It’s not really the engines we’re worried about, it’s the fact that they’re building them in the first place.”

“Which means…?”

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“Which means that they’re getting ready to launch a full invasion on the Kingdom. They wouldn’t build siege engines just to destroy this fort after all.”

Malt’s brows began to furrow as he began to see the bigger picture.

All the parts were beginning to come together. The Khods only skirmished to stall them so they could build their engines.

If they were to destroy Dagridge, the last standing bastion between the Kingdom and the invaders, the nobles would have no choice but to turn their attention to the southern front. If this were to happen then the Khods wouldn’t have enough time to amass a sizable army before the Northern forces intervened.

However if they left Dagridge intact while building their army quietly, they could just roll straight through Dagridge and into the Astouran countryside. The Northern forces wouldn’t be able to arrive before it was too late.

In short, the siege engines, towering mechanisms of indiscriminate destruction, meant that the war was lost. They’d be slaughtered and their loved ones would follow soon after.

Astoundria was done for.

As the weight of the situation finally caught up to Malt, he too began distressing. It didn’t matter how powerful Glenn and the others were, they wouldn’t stand a chance against both the Khods and the demon hordes.

As the soldiers stood, teetering on the brink of hysteria, Stromund suddenly slammed his fist against the table. The pound reverberated throughout the chilly morning air as everyone immediately fell silent.

He took a deep breath before speaking.

“However, there is a silver lining.”

Although it was still completely silent, an eagerness could be sensed from the crowd. To put it simply, everyone was desperate. They were cornered rats grasping at any straws they could find.

“They’ve been sourcing wood from a small timber village a bit to the east. It’s a small settlement, maybe fifty or sixty in population, that’s surrounded by thick forest.”

He scanned the crowd, seeing if anyone caught his drift.

“A village surrounded by that much cover, it would be a shame if something dangerous hid in there, yeah?”

One of the soldier’s faces lit up in realization, “Are you saying that we’re gonna…” The soldier didn’t finish his sentence, but his lips curved into a grin.

A sly smile streaked across Stromunds face. “Exactly. We’re launching an ambush.”

The men went silent, running through the idea in their heads. As they weighed the benefits and risks, they all eventually reached the same conclusion. Grins and confidence began erupting from the crowd.

The faint hope that had been so abruptly extinguished was beginning to rekindle itself again.

Stromund straightened his back, bringing his hands off the table.

“If we can take the village, we stop the siege engines from being built and we gain access to men and resources. Doesn’t sound like a bad deal, no?”

Spirit was beginning to surge in the men as the heavy atmosphere began to dissipate. They were nodding to one another in reassurance; maybe this really could work.

Stromund took off his “commander mask”, or rather the stern and stalwart facade he put on when he addressed his troops. His face softened as he became infinitely more approachable.

“Now listen up, I’m gonna be honest here.”

The sudden change in attitude surprised the men. They leaned in, curious as to what he had to say.

“I’m sick and tired of being beat on. I’m sure everyone here feels the same way.” The men agreed immediately, everyone was more than aware of how much they’d been enduring up until now.

“Right? So I’m just rearing to go and take the fight to them for once. How’s about we make them feel some of the shit we’ve been having to put up with, yeah?”

Affirmation swirled throughout the crowd. Yeahs and shouts began bursting from the crowd. Everyone and their brother was ready to fight. They were ready to release all the pent of anger and frustration that had been building within them for weeks.

The serene morning morphed into a chorus of cheering and shouts, enthusiasm was swelling once again.

“It’s settled then! Get through these next few days and I guarantee you, we’ll hit them back with twice the pain and suffering that we’ve been through. Now go! Start sharpening your swords, we're hitting back for once!”

The cheers were still lingering as the men began to disperse throughout the camp, going back to their daily routines. Though this time, determination burned in their heads, everyone seemed to work faster, with more meaning.

This was proof that Stromund was doing his job well as co-commander.

Malt was also affected, he power walked to his tent, eager to don his armor and go to the day’s skirmish. Before he could make it far, however, a firm hand grasped his shoulder.

He turned around to see Geld with his usual lazily shady expression.

“Oi, Stromund’s calling for us.”

He furrowed his brows, confused.

The two of them walked back over to the table to see that only a few still remained. Stromund was there of course, but so was Henry.

Everyone but Stromund and Geld looked similarly confused as to why they were called out specifically. After everyone had settled into position, Stromund finally began.

“Alright, I’m gonna cut to the chase.” He pointed to the three across the table.

“I’m going to need you to bomb the village.”

“...to what?”