After five days of marching, the House Morte forces arrive at the edge of the Gha desert.
The march had been long, boring, and uneventful. Aryr hadn't even needed to take out his tent because the closer they got to the Gha desert the hotter it got. It was hot enough to make the soldiers sweat without doing a single motion. Marching didn't help the condition much, so far it was miserable. The sun was shining brightly down on the men, making their golden shields glint slightly when they shifted their shoulders in discomfort. As they neared the hot, white sands of the desert the wind picked up considerably. Aryr had heard that the winds of the desert were vicious and could cause sandstorms that tore men apart. He hoped that was an exaggeration, so far though everything seemed to be true to the myths.
"Halt!" A voice came from the left of Aryr, it wasn't a House Morte voice either, it had a strange accent. The Commander turned his steed to face the mysterious speaker. Aryr glanced over, the man was weathered from what he assumed was the desert winds. He had the yellow garment of House Guerdu on, an enemy.
"Who are you to tell me to halt, Guerdu?" The Commander stepped off of his horse.
"I patrol the border near here on behalf of the House Guerdu Destroyers." The man seemed to be alone with only shield and sword in hand, there was nothing he could possibly do against the entire House Morte Royal Guard with the backing of the normal House Morte forces, even if they had an ambush force somehow magically hidden. The soldier shifted uncomfortably in his boots.
"Do you now? What do you say I'll let you live if you bring the message to your commander that House Morte is coming and we mean to fight." The Commander threw a big smirk on his face. The soldier pondered for a moment, "You may even use my steed as a token of my honesty."
"V... very well. We shall meet on the battlefield I suspect." The man ran to the horse and rode off as fast as he could.
The Commander turned around and laughed, everyone followed suit. Everyone except Aryr; That was foolish, they won't become fearful, they'll get ready and be aching to battle us now...
Regardless, the House Morte forces, good as they were, could be a bit too cocky at times. Aryr looked back at his newly formed unit, consisting of the ten Royal Guards he graduated with. The serious tone on his face hushed them quickly, they would be foolish not to listen to their new leader's commands, verbal or otherwise. The new unit under Aryr's command was what he hoped was the most elite one in the entire House Morte invasion force. They were, after all, ten of the most vicious, brutal, and skilled warriors. There would be nothing that could stop them.
They marched.
The deserts were hotter every step they took. It seemed that they would never reach this canyon that was spoken of before they died from dehydration. Step after step, each one became more difficult than the last; This will change once we're on the eve of battle. We'll become re-energized and ready to crush the House Guerdu forces. The eve of battle. The most precious of moment's in a soldier's life. It was a time for him to say his parting words to comrades, commanders, and most importantly, himself.
After nearly three hours of hot, gross, and tiring marching the Commander made the dearest announcement he could possibly make, "Men, the canyon is about two miles away."
There were cheers throughout the entire army as the word spread. The battle would be upon them soon enough. They would draw the Guerdu forces out during the night. Arrows would rain down on them, the House Morte archers were all women, and they had graceful and quick hands, ideal for reloading arrows and aiming quickly. The men had brute strength, something honored amongst House Morte, and they made the best of soldiers. The House Morte forces would set up camp until nightfall. Then, there would be blood.
~*~
It had gotten considerably cooler outside of Aryr's tattered tent. This of course was a good thing, an event they could quickly change for the Guerdu forces. Aryr didn't know much about magic but he did know that the mage who came along with them could simply snap his fingers and have the ends of the arrows the House Morte arrows start on fire. This would start the Guerdu tents on fire and draw them out of the canyon. That's where they would meet the House Morte army. They would be crushed with an ironclad fist.
There was nothing they could possibly do to stop the conquest of House Morte and the Temple of Infinity's glorious campaign across Eulaea. They would carve their way through, into the history books of every Eulaea scholar and teacher. Man and woman would hear the name Aryr de Morte the XXV and shudder at the thought of crossing him. Not yet, however, there were more pressing matters at hand. Getting to that point would get harder as they came closer to the J'nu and Guerdu capitols.
Aryr had come up with the plan of shooting fire arrows into the canyon in hopes of starting fires in the Guerdu tents. Hopefully the flames would spread, injuring some in the process, killing, and of course the ultimate goal was to get them into the open desert where they would be overcome and surrounded by House Morte with no way out.
The eve of battle.