The northward march of the towering giants and cannon-carrying wagons popped the eyes of the wizard open like those of a lizard, widely spying with incredulity at what he was witnessing. Pulling the cigarette away, he righted his posture to see this more clearly. With a spit of gamey, tobacco-addled spit and a whistle, he ordered his trumpeter to call out to Seamus once more, bringing the experienced soldier back into the fray in less than a few minutes. Storm’s eyes were now cut back into fine slits as the sun lowered beneath the blanket of clouds moving inward, the golden light painting them all as royals.

“Gods-damnit, Seamus! I know your ass is getting old, but I told you to move the giants and cannons away from the fire! I want them out of sight-line to give the Osiris legions more confidence than they deserve. What in the hell are they doing?”

Stoic, the shorter warrior pointed to the skies south of them, where two falcons twisted in long, lazy arcs. Only a focused squint into the early evening skies could betray their position as they spanned the length of the forces beneath them, tracing an invisible oval about the enemies position some distance south and out of clear eyesight. “They serve at your will, m’liege.”

The stench of the battlefield filled Storm’s lungs as his nostrils flared, the general irate at this discovery. With himself pinned between Radasanth and Shinsou’s forces, he would be susceptible to pincer attack should message reach the stronghold to the north.

“We’d moved from Whitevale on the cliff’s edge to PREVENT THIS VERY BULLSHIT, Seamus. How long have they been following us, and how did we fail to spot their approach?” Storm’s large, bony hands pulsed white as they gripped his mount’s reins, his refrain important. He longed to summon a magnetic pulse to fire Seamus and his steel armor clear off the mountainside to make an example of the commander’s incompetence, but knew the leadership the old warrior offered was too valuable to waste.

“We don’t know where they popped from, m’liege. Chances are they rode east to th coast, perhaps from Concordia, and their speed is just better than ours. We’ve got the big fellows and the cannons to lug, after all.

Shit. How the hell do we show strength, block communications, and protect our face and our asses at the same time?

The mage took another long drag from his cigarette, his mind swirling as he considered the options about him. Tactically, he was doomed should launch an assault on Radasanth now. If the Crown had shipped Shinsou in to stop him, and the man in black had faster troops, then an assault northward would get them caught in a crossfire with no resolution but death. Worse, if Shinsou sent emissaries or even birds north with messages, they could rally the big city and send them down to meet Storm’s troops in the field, giving him much the same problem.

Of course, you get him to send the same message, AND get him on your side, then the entire Radasanthian guard leaves the stronghold to meet hell’s heavy hand in the open field. They’ll be sheep marching into the wolves’ den.

“First, we need to cut off communications. Pull the birds back. Spread the archers every ten feet in a straight line west from the coast – they’ll cover three miles that way and have them shoot every bird that Shinsou tries to ship over our heads. Move the messengers to the front row; keep their goddamned bottle rockets ready to firewall for us if they have to. Send the cavalry back to protect our cannons and bring the giants back to center frame; I want him to see them before he does anything stupid.” The general’s eyes now caught those of both of Brackett’s dutiful assistants.

“Maybe now. Seamus, you stay with me and let the boys relay word.”

Trumpet bursts, drum beats, and footfalls immediately filled the earth at dusk as men moved urgently into position. Rangers swiftly ran as armed soldiers struggled to keep pace, the armed guardsmen moving two-for-one to protect the archers that would cut off messaging. The giants moved in, their towering presence a strong lookout as they fortified the front line, a surprising intelligence from them as they stared out at the dimming would-be battlefield. Lanterns popped to life every few yards, a convoy of light and improved vision. They could not withstand a significant charge from this thinned position, however the forces looked insurmountable as they allowed themselves to be spread.

“Y’know, Cap; chances are we’re six ways to screwed out here if Osiris mounts a heavy charge. We’re no better than four deep; he can cut us in half with any respectable cavalry. If I can be so bold, they don’t catch us if they don’t have the horses.” Seamus had apparently reached an age where a relative indifference to his well being began to emerge. Storm had executed men for insubordination before, after all.

A smirk crossed the wizard’s face as he looked back at the tanned fighter. “You’re right, but we’re altogether porked if he gets a message to Radasanth that we’re coming. They’ll leave the barracks, hit us in the field, and Shinsou will ride in to clean up the leavings.”

Storm continued without allowing a retort. “That’s why we cut communications with our numbers, and ride in with white flags. Shin may have been conscripted to snuff out the attacking hoard, but I’m sure they wouldn’t have enlisted him to stop me if they knew better.

“Let’s double our numbers, and see if we can roll those bastards. Let our dogs eat Radasanthian livers tomorrow.”

A big, toothy grin spread across Seamus’s face as he rubbed his stubbled chin. The warrior pushed his horse forward, to the front of the south-facing line to ride with Storm Veritas.

“No; the armies need a commander. Stay here, keep these men from losing their shit. I’ll be back in three hours. If the armies of Shinsou don’t have me at the front of them, feel free to kick their collective dicks into the dirt.” Storm summoned two of the heavily armored cavalry from the rank and file and pulled them to ride alongside him. Slightly less confused than they were scared by the mandate, they obeyed dutifully.

The words of Seamus Brackett rang in his ears as the wizard began to ride south, with only two guards to negotiate with thousands.

“Fair enough, you damned fool. Be sure to ride that big black monster out front and center. Firebombs and cannon-fire rarely discriminate for the friendly!”

Hilarious, Seamus. I wasn’t worried enough about firing me into a fine paste before you had to remind me that our idiots are just as gods-damned stupid.