Grand Plains (Location C)

[Bleater]

The crew had gotten off the airships, and were filing into ranks a few dozen yards north of the landing area; Corporal Krybirr was watching as the airship crews finalized everything for a full holding when the Thoracis' greeting envoy arrived. The drow turned his mount quickly to face them as hundreds of eyes fell on the small contigent of men from the nearby troops. He motioned to his men to hold back as the others approached and Colonel Glass delivered his nearly-ultimatum greeting that drew a daunting look from the Corporal.

General Thoracis? Fighting out here? the dark elf thought, befuddled amid the disrespect. It was starting to make sense to him why William had been asking about the legendary commander before: he must have known that Thoracis and his men were in the area.

As the man with Glass' troupe spoke up, Shalacius felt more at ease hearing his words, but scoffed a bit himself. Hearing out the small greeting from Elrohir, he gave a mock grin under his words, nodding.

"Firstly, no offense taken. I can understand the Colonel here having an abrasive manner- I would too if I had such little control over my men that they could speak over me when they pleased." he quipped, trading the insult back. "However, that aside, we were not aware Thoracis or his men would be present in the area, so you'll excuse me if I take a moment to digest this small surprise."

From nearby to the south, a booming voice carried over the plains.

"An enemy deployment at camp, men! Ready your weapons!" the rough voice of the dwarven captain rang out, sharply drawing Corporal Krybirr's attention.

Captain Lashgiver was approaching the camp, in lead of the Phalanx Division, who had begun pulling axes, warhammers, and swrods from the clasps and sheaths at their sides. Corporal Krybirr realized the powder keg that they sat on, and moved quickly.

"Stay your weapons, men! That is an order! Do not draw on these men!"

He waved his hands frantically to ensure he had the attention of the men before glaring at Captain Lashgiver. Evanthor's face was bright red with anger as he stomped through the grass, so angry he stammered when he spoke.

"W-w-what is the meaning of this?!? What makes you think you have authority over my division? There is an enemy platoon in our camp, and I said draw your weapons!"

His own face darkening to almost read, despite his dark grey skin, Corporal Krybirr snapped at the men harshly, pointing an accusing finger at them.

"You will NOT carry out that order!" He quickly pointed his finger from the men to Captain Lashgiver. "And you will not issue that order again. Do not forget that I am the superior officer here, Captain Lashgiver. This is a diplomatic party, and under the articles of warfare, we are prohibited from attacking them. Now you and your men, stand down immediately."

If the tension between Thoracis' men and the Corporal had been a powder keg, the tension between the two officers was an airship full of dynamite. They silently locked eyes before Evanthor yielded in acknowledgement that he was outranked.

"Very well. Men, hold your position!" He shouted behind him, before looking sharply at the drow. "What is the meaning of this, Corporal?"

"These men are a forward party from General Thor-"

Evanthor cut him off, with deliberate disrespect in his tone.

"I'm well aware of who they are, sir. What do they want?"

The drow narrowed his eyes at his dwarven co-commander hesitating only briefly.

"The General's men are ahead of us, between our approach to Gisela City and here. They are already engaging enemy forces, and this party has come to elicit an alliance from us."

The dwarf had already known, and had made up his mind hours ago.

"Preposterous. If they are between us and our goal, we will treat them as we would any other impeding force. They will fall in line withour enemies and face our-"

This time it was the Corporal who cut off Captain Lashgiver, his tone even more stern than before.

"That is quite enough, Captain Lashgiver. Now, these men have come under the auspices of a truce, and it is my feeling that it would be in both armies best interests to accept such an offer."

The two men locked eyes harshly, neither saying a word. The corporal knew that he couldn't supercede Lashgiver by his own edict on this matter, but he was not about to let the Captain spark off an even bloodier conflict than needed. Interrupting the silent battle of wits was the stately voice of William Steinbock.

"And we will accept their offer." He said as he walked up to the men.

Both turned suddenly with surprise as William strode with a noble air about him. Captain Lashgiver narrowed his eyes at the goat, cursing under his breath. While Coproal Krybirr couldn't overrule him alone, he and William together could. William walked between the two men, glancing with preturbation between them before looking at the greeting party.

"I am sorry for this outburst here. You may return to General Thoracis and tell him that our forces do not present a threat to him-"

"Mr. Steinbock!" Captain Lashgiver interrupted. William cut him a quick glare before continuing.

"-as our orders to march on Gisela and overtake the Imperial Army do not stipulate outside forces. Furthermore-"

"Mister Steinbock!" Evanthor interrupted again, drawing another nasty look and a growling tone from the goat.

"Furthermore... if he is engaging enemy forces to the east, then it is no doubt forces we would have to fight ourselves in order to carry out our orders. So you may return and let the general know that he has us at his aid."

William turned sharply, marching back towards his division to oversee the construction of the Behemoth. The angry dwarven captain was quick on his heels and Corporal Krybirr stayed to see the newly-allied party on their way off.

------

"You had better have a damn good explaination, goat!" the captain said when they were out of sight and earshot of the greeting party. "I should take my whips to you right now for that little display!"

Turning on his heels, William got nose-to-nose with Evanthor, anger burning in his eyes.

"I don't need to explain myself to you, Mr. Lashgiver. We are co-commanders of this army. Now, Corporal Krybirr and myself have made a decision about the situation that was presented before us. And while you may have had an opposing opinion, you were outvoted."

"So all of a sudden you think you have some sort of authority here, capran?"

William snorted hot breath that made the dwarf's beard sway slightly.

"I *do* have authority here, Captain. In case you forgot, I am commanding over the Behemoth Division. I may have been a civilian before I came out here, but now, I am one of the leaders of this army; and your pushing me around ends here."

Captain Lashgiver surprisingly cracked a smile at this, then sneered while nodding.

"Heh, alright then. You've gone and grown yourself a pair. That'll make it all the sweeter to take the lash to you when this is all over. Get your division prepared then, the briefing is soon."

As the dwarf walked off, he had a sinister look about him as if he was plotting...

[Bleater]

Corporal Krybirr paced in front of the waves of men, the entire army assembled before him. His hands were clasped dutifully behind his back as the last company marched into formation at the back of the large square formation. Looking up, his eyes scanned over the men. Some had stern faces of seasoned troops, ready for whatever awaits. Other, younger ones had uncertainty in their eyes, the look of young men walking into battle for the first time. He looked over each face carefully, and as everyone came to a standstill and all was quiet, he parted his lips and spoke with a bold tone in his voice.

"So, do I have any soldiers out here today?"

There was a resounding "HOO!" that came forth from the men; hundreds of voices in unison sent the sound echoing across the plains. The corporal nodded with a pleased look.

"Good. I was hoping I might have a handful among the lot of you. Today, we march into battle, and as such, I have special instructions for all of you. Firstly, I want each of you to look to the man at your left."

He paused as the men loked around at each other with questioning looks.

"Very good. From this moment on, you are responsible for that man. You will support and assist them as well as protect them. If the man to your left dies, then I personally assure you that you will be in a world of shit with me. For you boys on the left flank who have no one beside you: you do not have permission to die! Is that understood?"

Hundreds of voices rang out with a "Sir, yes, sir!", which caused another pleased nod.

"Good. Now, when we leave this area, we will move east of here. There, General Thoracis has troops assembled that are engaging an opposing force. We will support Thoracis' men and assist them in any way we can in overcoming this force. Thoracis and his men have a grand reputation, one that has even served to name this very bettleground. As men who will be supporting them, I hold each of you to the same measuring stick that they are judged by..."

Pulling a hand from behind his back, Shalacius pointed off to the southeast.

"From there, we will march southwards to Gisela City. If the Imperial Army still stands at that point, we will overtake them, we will besiege the city, and we will take it for our own. Now, our orders are very simple, and very clear. But rest assured... some of the tasks which seem simple are the most daunting ones you could face; this is one of those cases. In manpower, we may be outnumbered. Our enemies will surely be better equipped, and have more training and experience than we have."

He looked around again, paying special note of the younger, more unstead troops. He knew he was addressing their very fears.

"But for all their superior training and experience and numbers, we will prevail, because we are from Alerar. And while our orders may be hard to accomplish, Aleranian troops always see their orders through until the end. Since the beginning of our nation, we have faced so-called "superior" forces, and we have conquered and laid waste to them all. It is a tradition for our people, and I for one have no intention of being the first one to break that tradition."

A few men had their faces relax from the anxiety, while others stifled proud grins.

"Are we ready, men?"

Another shout of "HOO!" in unison rang out.

"Good. Then let's go add another page of victory to our proud history!"

The corporal turned back to the other two leaders, who had stood in the field behind him.

"Captain Lashgiver."

Evanthor looked like a scorned child, a bitter look still on his face from the earlier encounter with the drow.

"Yes, Corporal?"

"I believe you had a sound strategy at the last site. I want to entrust the First Striker Company to your command. I want you to split their rangs between the airships and go with them, commanding them from above. Keep a high flight path, above the range of catapults and other standard seige weapons as you fly above us, and drop in when the opportunity presents itself."

Despite the bitter look, the dwarf seemed quite content with this plan, and nodded, gruffly letting "Aye." slip from between his lips. He turned, marching towards the company and beginning to shout commands. The corporal turned his attention to William, who was standing tall with a militaristic stance of his own.

"How is the assembly of the Behemoth going?"

Nodding behind him, William crooked his head back as what looked like a giant boulder uncurled just then into the towering form of the walking seige weapon.

"I'm going to take a stab in the dark here and say that she's ready to give someone a proper walloping."

Looking almost with awe at the huge beast of rock and metal, the dark elf nodded before turning quickly on his heels and moving towards the remaining troops.

"Very good. Let's move out eastward then."

With that, all the troops began getting ready and moving to start their march.

[Bleater]

The march across the plains was long and hard, and the ground troops had slowed after the first hours. Corporal Krybirr occasionally steered his warhorse up along either of the flanks, verbally spurring the men onward. They were tiring, but not fatigued, and the drow knew that if his men held out as well as he hoped, then they'd still be in fair enough condition when they reached the battle site. They approached in the distance and saw the congregation of a large contengent of men: Thoracis' troops. They were near a landbridge, though the brigade was still unable to see the army that opposed Thoracis' on the other side. Surely the greeting envoy had made it back by now, so the sight of what would be an allied army raised the spirits of the Corporal. Indeed, the men seemed to share his sentiment, their pace quickening again as they drew closer and closer to the bulk of Thoracis' army. Behind them, William walked amid the elemental magi, watching them as they dragged their feet. A march was one thing, but marching and maintaining the magic to control the Behemoth was pushing the mages to their limit. It was a blessing that they would be reaching their new camp soon; these men could obviously have used a break by that point...

~~~~~~~

Overhead, Captain Lashgiver leaned far over the railing of the airship, his eyes narrowing as they flew slightly in the lead, drawing closer and closer to Thoracis' army. His scowl cut deep into his face, and he seemed to have a fire in his eyes as he breathed in deeply and marched back across the deck with a puffed up chest.

"All units! Assemble on deck!"

The men began filing into rank on the middle of the deck, and Evanthor crossed to the port side of the ship, leaning across and shouting the order over to the other airship. The troops scurried like ants, lining up into neat square formations. The dwarven captain leaned against the port rail and looked down at the main force of his own army below, his frown deepening.

"Can you men hear me over there?" he bellowed across to the other airship. The men nodded, and he returned the gesture with confidence.

"Good. All units, I want you to move to the outer railing of the forward deck. We are about to come upon Thoracis' men. I want you all to nock your bows and prepare to fire a volley of arrows as soon as we're in range."

There were several stunned faces, and one of the company officers stepped forward.

"Sir! Corporal Krybirr informed us that we are in an alliance with that army, sir!"

The dwarf looked to have a fervor about him, spittle coming out as he barked back angrily.

"The corporal has chartered an agreement that he does not have the authority to make, and has diverted from our orders. He has put our entire mission at risk! I assure you, he will be brought up on charges of treason when we return to Alerar, and the men who assist him in this illicit affair will be charged with mutiny. I will personally see to that. Now, are their any more objections?"

The same drow snapped to attention pose again and called out.

"Sir! I cannot comply with that order. It is in direct conflict with the orders issued by the Corporal."

"I see..." the dwarf said, stroking his beard and puckering his lips as if he had bit into a lemon. "Perhaps you forgot that the Corporal himself said that command of this company has been transfered to me. Officer, you are relieved of duty."

Evanthor pointed to two nearby archers, looking sternly. "Escort this man to the lower holds and place him in the brig for gross insubordination."

The two dark elves looked hesitant, but nodded, taking and arm each of the officer. The drow archer didn't bother struggling, merely scowling at the dwarf and marching between his escorts peaceably.

"Now, as for the rest of you, prepare to fire a volley at that troop formation."

"But sir..." another drow spoke up, "we're too high. Flying above seige weapon range has put us in a position that none of the men are used to firing from. We can't guarantee we'd even hit anything."

Rolling his eyes, Captain Lashgiver grumbled as he pointed to the front of the ship.
"Aim for their middle ranks. The increased downward arc of the arrows should be offset by the forward momentum of the airship. But if it concerns you men so much, then prepare to fire two volleys. Use the first shot as a guide and adjust your aim for the second shot accordingly. Now!"

There was a scurry as the men began to move to the outer edges of the airship deck.

~~~~~~

Corporal Krybirr smiled with relief. His heart pounded in his chest wildly just at the prospect of meeting Thoracis in person, much less serving alongside him. Looking over his men, he could see a sense of calm in their eyes fighting through the wear of the march.

Things are always calmest right before the storm. Suddenly, streaks of shadows ran overhead, and caused many of the men to look upward. Shalacius' and William's eyes each looked to the sky as their hearts collectively sank. Corporal Krybirr's eyes widened in horror as he saw the first volley of arrows flying from their airships towards Thoracis' army.

"Dear god... what has that bastard dwarf done... COMPANY HALT!"

He watched as the arrows began arching downwards through the air with a whipping sound, and his voice roared as he called out to the ground troops behind him.

"FORM YOUR DEFENSIVE RANKS! ADVANCE NO FARTHER!"

He was already bracing for what would surely be an ungodly counterattack once the arrows hit, and he couldn't shake the fear that Captain Lashgiver had brought Hell itself upon them. Above him, the archers readied another shot.

[Thoracis]

“You son of a bitch!” Thoracis was on Glass before the last arrow had even hit the soil, Aleranian and Raiaeran bodies already littering the ground, dead or screaming in shocked agony. Thoracis grabbed the man by his throat, easily lifting the man’s platemaled body off of his horse. The sleeve of his robe slid down to reveal an icy arm that pulsed with his rage. “I swear by Hromagh’s might I will slit your throat if you’ve betrayed me!”

Glass was grasping desperately at Thoracis’ frozen grip, “I swear it… my lord… please!” The darkening red of the man’s face was a sickly contrast to the bluish-white of Thoracis’ arm. “It has to be… the dwarf… Lashgiver… he was against the allegiance from the start.” Thoracis glared at the man from beneath his mask, holding on a moment longer until Glass’ eyes started to roll in the back of his head. Just as the man was about to lose consciousness he let go, tossing the Colonel to the ground. He gasped for air on his hands and knees, nearly in tears. Thoracis knew that Glass had not betrayed him. He was ambitious enough to do it, sure, but he also knew that serving Thoracis was his easiest path to the glory he sought. No, this was the continuing betrayal of a country Thoracis had once called home. A country he had bled for. A country he had died for.

Nearly half of his archers were dead or dying. With them were almost a hundred of the Veterans of Khu’Fein, slain by the hands of their own countrymen. Alerar was going to pay for her crimes. Dearly.

“Get yourself together.” Thoracis regarded his Colonel calmly, almost regretting letting his temper get the best of him. “Regroup your cavalry. We ride now.”

Thoracis wasted no time in relaying his orders. At once, the remaining Veterans and Raiaerians reformed their lines under the command of Elrohir Eärfalas, this time into a single unit. The cavalry regrouped under Glass, nearly two hundred and fifty strong, eager to bury their lances in treacherous Aleranian flesh. In the distance the Defenders of Kachuk and the two hundred Veterans who had been positioned along the border with the pass had witnessed the surprise attack, their cheers and rallying cries now audible as their comrades readied for the attack.

But first, there was a swift justice to be had. Once more Thoracis’ ice elementals began their destructive song, this time all fifty of them joining the chorus in unison. Of all people the Aleranians should have known what he was capable of. This folly would be their last. The airships that had delivered the blow to Thoracis’ men were flying dangerously close to each other, close enough that Thoracis could have probably delivered this blow himself, but as he so often liked to do he was going to send a message to this Captain Lashgiver. This time the wind really came from every direction; north, south, east and west, converging on the two airships. It would take a miracle for them to avoid a collision.

Satisfied that the mages could take care of the airships, Thoracis signaled for the attack.

The Defenders and Veterans closest to the enemy would comprise the first wave. They immediately began to close the ground between themselves and the enemy infantry. The Defenders formed the anchor of the unit, with a hundred of the more mobile Veterans on their flanks. Rough estimations put the enemy infantry at around three hundred soldiers, not counting the lurking construction which trailed behind them. It was a more than even fight in the eyes of the dwarven Defenders of Kachuk. They approached the nearest enemy unit diligently, covering the ground as quickly as their stout legs would allow. Warhammers and battle-axes were at the ready, thirsty for vengeance. Beside them the Veterans of Khu’Fein held back as best they could. The retribution they sought would be swift and brutal, but they knew that their offensive would be more effective if the dwarves engaged ahead of them and then they brought their flanks upon the enemy.

Behind them Glass swung his cavalry towards the southern flank of the enemy. There was a renewed zeal to the man who was clearly seeking atonement from Thoracis. The cavalry would engage just after the enemies front lines were occupied. It would force them into a precarious decision; either focus on the infantry threat before them, or turn their attention to the charging lances from the south. At that point they would be severely outnumbered and likely incapable of fighting on both fronts. The remaining Veterans would stay back in reserve and protect the precious few archers Thoracis had left.
Then there was Thoracis himself. He rode alone, ahead of the cavalry and the trailing infantry, furiously urging his mount to a quicker pace. Glass and Elrohir had given him descriptions of the armies leaders, an Aleranian called Krybirr and an upright goat called Steinboch. Either would serve as a target, though the Aleranian was the one he wanted the most.

He had nearly caught the dwarves by the time they engaged, their little armored bodies piling into the enemy, weapons swinging with a fervor that could only be from Kachuk. Just before the Veterans followed suit Thoracis caught site of his target amidst the enemy soldiers. He wheeled his horse towards the combat, oblivious to the fact that he was without protection. The world around Thoracis blurred as he focused on his target. Krybirr didn’t look like much, probably just another young Aleranian soldier who had proved loyal in the opening days of Edari’axa’s reign. “You should have stayed loyal to Alerar!,” Thoracis screamed in a frenzy, barreling through bodies and feeling the numerous blows deflect off the armor beneath his robes, “Now you will pay for Alerar’s crimes!” Ripping his black porcelain mask from his face, Thoracis’ mouth was contorted as if in a scream, yet there was no sound. In an instant a cone of frost and ice shot forth from Thoracis’ mouth, straight towards Krybirr and those near him.

A cheer rose up from the Veterans as they watched their General throw himself into the fray. This was for the true Alerar.

[Bleater]

The airships spun overhead; the bow of the left ship scraped the stern of the other, an impact that would only slightly damage the ships by chance but knock them apart. The situation was not any better for them having avoided the crash: the lead ship spun quickly, archers being flung left and right over the railing and falling hundreds of feet to the ground below. Captain Lashgiver braced himself in the stairwell to the lower holds, shoving the lesser soldiers who tried to escape to the inside of the ship back into the cyclone. The secondary ship rocked back and forth, spilling men to either side like a leaking bowl, before being tossed upside down and capsized in midair, spilling piles of bodies that rained on the infantry below. The ship was flipped again by the winds as the crew in the main hold were slammed back and forth against the walls, the pilot desperately fighting against the wheel to regain control, which seemed by the second to be an increasingly impossible task.

Waves of shouting men poured over the plains, and the Wall Company literally dug their heels in, living up to their name by forming a wall of shields arced in a semicircle. Behind them, theie other men of their division leaned forward, pushing against the ront line to hold them as they slipped their smaller shields in the gaps formed. Shalacius stood firmly, looking at the approaching sea of soldiers approaching, resolute as his voice rang out.

"Hold the line! Repel their attack and stop the charge, but engage only defensively! Do not go on the attack! I will NOT let that son of a bitch dwarf throw us into war with our allies!"

In his mind, he knew he was already too late, but idealism- or perhaps naivity- got the better of him. Turning to William, he had a look in his eyes: not of despair, but of reluctant acceptance. The look of a man walking to the gallows.

"Run, Mr. Steinbock. Run and take the elves in your division with you."

A day ago, William wouldn't have questioned it, but even with the stomping feet of the advancing army growing close enough that they made the ground tremble, William didn't budge.

"I can't do that, mate. I'm buggered if I run and go back to Alerar. But if I survive today... well..."

The Corporal nodded, knowing William was right. Success was the only thing standing between the capran and the executioner's axe. He may have been an academic, but put a man between yourself and his death, and you'll find even scholars that can fight with the fury of a wild beast.

"Go, command your division, then."

As William ran back towards the Behemoth and the elemental mages standing behind the army, the first wave struck the front of the defensive wall. There was a thunderous boom as the tsunami of flesh roared against the troops, the wall of steel being pushed back as a whole almost a foot. Several of the Wall Comapny troops found their boots literally cutting small trenches in the earth as they struggled to hold on, and a few even found themselves crushed between their shields and the men buffetting them from behind. The Swarm Company gave a push from behind them, and all the men in the wall company that had any strength pushed back the wave that had just struck them.

Not one blade was swung among them, but each inch they pushed the opponents back, each blow that clanged with no effect on their shields was more of a testament to their fortitude than any amount of slain enemies would have been. Wave after wave crahsed against them, axes and warhammers beating on the wall of steel, the men gritting their teeth and putting their shoulders into their shields to hold back the advance. Men who's legs bucked under them found hands coming to their side to drag them up, men who felt the strength of their shield arms fail found a swarm company member raising their shield in the gap, pulling up the weak arms of the men beside them. These men would not give up one inch if they could help it.

Directly behind them, Corporal Krybirr stood, watching intently. His mouth was open, shouting out commands to his men, but the clamor of the battle made his words impossible to hear. He felt his eyes drawn south as the winds rose and finally sent one of the airships pitching northwest, flying high and faster than its engines could ever carry it as it hurdles towards the sea in the distance. Turning his horse around, the dark elf saw the advaning cavalry, and shouted out to the troops of the Phalanx Division nearby.

"Guard that flank as best as you can, do not let them get behind the wall!"

The men began rushing into place, the elite soldiers, trained for offense now having to adapt to defense. Before the cavalry would reach them, a figure rushed around the southern tip of the wall, past hordes of fighting opponents and through the ranks of their own men on horseback. Several of the stormtrooper division troops swung their axes at the quickly moving body of Thoracis and his steed, and despite their skill each swipe cleaved nothing but the air. Seeing this, Shalacius cried out angrily to his men.

"I SAID DO NOT ATTACK! NO OFFENSIVE MEA-"

Amid his shout, the Corporal was knocked off the back of his horse by a blast of cold, shards of ice slahsing across the skin on his face like dozens of small knives. He fell to the ground, and the wind came out from his lungs, leaving his gasping in the cold air in a desperate attempt to pull oxygen into his lungs. Even this suddenly, his wounds tried to bleed but his own blood began to freeze as quickly as it was seeping from the wounds. The measure is probably one thing that kept him from behing killed immediately, but it also left him feeling more pain than he had ever felt in his life. His face burned as if pressed against a hot iron forge, and his chest heaved against the inside of his armor as he struggled for air. almost half of the men from the stormtrooper division lunged forward, desperately putting themselves between their commander and Thoracis, each swinging wildly at him with their axes to try to push him back.

William watched from behind as the army collectively held together, defending themselves without drawing a single enemy's blood. He felt awe and admiration for these troops, dedicated to the furitive orders of their leader. With a determined look, he stepped forward, pointing over towards the cavalry about to reach the southern flank.

"Have the Behemoth handle that force. Do not let them pass behind the wall!" He yelled.

Quickly, he dropped to all fours and raced towards Thoracis and the men of the Stormtrooper division who were flailing at him to keep him away from their commander. He knew he would catch his own men with the move, but it was a risk he had to take. Leaning forward in a dead sprint, he opened his mouth and roared, the deep bleat ringing like the sound of a boulder crashing as waves of invisible magic went from his mouth. Amid the bleat, a single discernable word was shouted: "STO-O-O-O-O-O-O-OP!" Already, the stromtrooper units were struggling with their swings, their arms growing heavy as they were magically weighed down. They would be at a disadvantage, but if Thoracis caught the attack as well, he would likewise be hindered.

Behind him, the Behemoth stepped southward, crouching low and sending its massive warhammer swinging in a wide horizontal arc at the cavalry who were reaching the army. It pushed forward, following with a swipe of it's massive left arm, each attack trying to bat away and stop the advancing cavalry.

Death Toll:
198 First Strike Units killed in the magic attack on the airship.
19 Wall Company Units and 9 Swarm Company Units were Killed/Critically Wounded in by the first wave's charge.
17 Wall Company Units and 29 Swarm Company Units have received Minor-to-Moderate Damage in the charge.
2 Stormtrooper Units were overrun and killed by Thoracis' charge into the army
Corporal Shalacuis Krybirr has sustained serious injuries (which will make him unable to fight for next post, and in need of immediate medical attention.)