The early morning sun cast a pale glow over the barony as Kael stood on the hill overlooking his assembled army.
The air was cold, crisp, and still, a deceptive calm before the storm of war.
Below him, 900 soldiers stood ready, their armor glinting faintly in the morning light.
Standards bearing the sigil of Kael's barony fluttered in the gentle breeze, while the low noise of murmurs and clinking steel filled the air.
Kael adjusted his gloves, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
Gerald rode up beside him, his horse snorting impatiently. "The men are ready, my lord,"
Gerald said, his voice steady. "The scouts report no significant movement from the Elstrand forces. They seem to be fortifying their position near the manor."
Kael nodded, his expression calm but cold. "Then we'll strike quickly. No prolonged skirmishes. Their morale is weak, and we'll exploit that."
HAPPY THANKSGIVING