Dawn breaks and the war horns blow. With the rising sun the army begins it's march. By midday they emerge out of the hills to meet their foes waiting for them in a less disciplined formation than a typical army.
The clansmen are at least over 30,000 strong, armoured and garbed in bones, wood, pelts and the occasional Vor'rossi armour no doubt taken from the slain.
Lord Manfred, mounts his war horse and rides to the front line, sword in hand.
"Formation!" He commands.
The front infantry men of the royal forces step forward spears and shields in hand, garbed in half helms and chainmail and boiled leather with the royal standards on their breastplates.
The field is loud with silence…
"Charge!"
Over three thousand men from both armies charge at one another. The clansmen don't spare their strength, sending their shaman priests to the front lines, ancient fire magic close the distance between clansmen and Vor'rossi as the charging infantry men go up in flames.
Burning and dying, clansmen ride in on demonhorses (huge monsters of hellish origins with burning hoves, thick skin and curled horns 15 inches long, they're bred for war).
The clansmen ride on their war-beasts, wielding savage blades that glow a deep green. They trample the burning and injured Vor'rossi fronts. Cutting men in half as they tear through their ranks. It's carnage.
"Damn bastards, their as savage as they say" A Xox soldier says to his fellows at the front of the main army.
"Knights!, ride out and clear this rabble" Lord Manfred bellows, rage rising.
Ser luthor unsheathes his sword and raises it in the air "To war!" His Knight-brethren take up the war cry "TOO WAR!" They scream.
The knights emerge from the ranks in their hundreds, thousands strong on warhorses bearing nobile sigils of ancient houses. They ride pass and take defense of the retreating infantry men.
Ser luthor, at the head of the charge activates his rune enchanted blade, it's steel begins to glow white hot, he slashes the air. The wave that follows is utter destruction, decimating the riding clansmen, it slices them and their mounts in half, as it looses effect the further it goes and finally blows away like wind.
"Slay them ALL!" The Redlag knight barks.
The clansmen that survive Ser Luthor's attack are fell upon by Vor'rossi Knights, all mounted.
A huge man mounted on a demon horse at the head of the mountainman forces gives a signal. Nearly half of the mountain forces begins to charge for the Knights battling in the middle of the field. They're screaming and cursing in their native tongues, closing the distance with each heartbeat.
Seeing this, lord Manfred acts. "Their on the move men!, now we ride out to meet them, we shall show them no mercy for they had none for us!. For our countrymen, for our Kingdom, For our King!, ARGHHHH!"
A sea of soldiers charge, Lord Manfred leading the charge. In moments the armies are one and battle breaks out, slaughter and death is it's language and blood and chaos it's accent. The mountainmen are savage fighters, but with mounted knights leading the assault. They break their front lines, Lord Manfred, blade in hand unleashes his thunder magic (A subclass of Storm magical arts)casting in the ancient Euloptus tongue (God-Speech)
"Give way!" He shouts to his men.
His forces part. White-blue Light as bright as a star spews out of the lord's palms, wide, bright and spreading wider as it attains distance, it incinerates any and all things it comes in contact with. The aftermath is utter devastation and destruction. A single attack had cut a hole through the ranks of the mountain horde, killing thousands. The ground is scorched and red hot as it steams and pulses.
"Ser Luthor!, lead the charge. I must recover my mana" Manfred shouts to his commander in the distance.
His men are in disbelief of such destruction. They stand almost still as ranks of the enemy retreats and run like cowards.
"Uh… A-As you command sire. Men!, forward!.
His command brings the men their sense once more, this time their morale is as high as mountains after witnessing the might of their lord.
The tide shifts.
Ser Luthor leads a massive and decisive charge on the mountain horde with most trying to retreat. The Vor'rossi forces show no mercy, as they cut down their invaders.
Victory shows it's sweet face, but…
The sky darkens as if night itself has descended upon the battlefield. The army, a sea of steel and banners, trembles with anticipation and fear. Suddenly, a shadow falls across the ground, growing larger by the second. A mighty roar shakes the earth as a powerful black dragon bursts forth from the clouds.