The sun lazily rose the following morning accompanied by a thin layer of fog. The fog clung close to the earth like a blanket of mist draping the ground.
'Good. Very good,' Arthos thought as he walked on the palisade wall.
The air was thick with anticipation as the villagers manned their stations. The misty morning gave the air a cold iron smell which only agitated the nerves even more. Dozens of villagers were trained and prepared to operate the catapults, hundreds more were stationed along the palisade wall with bows and spears.
In anticipation of the coming battle, the river north-east of the village was diverted just enough to flood the northern field turning the ground into a soft mud pit. Arthos and the heroes knew that the orc army would descend from the north and would attempt to encircle and overrun the village from every direction. The north flooding would make the north and east side of the village unreachable…that meant the orcs would be forced to attack along the western wall. This allowed the heroes and villagers to focus all their force on the west wall.
The sound of heavy, uneven breathing could be heard from within the village. The villagers fiddled with their helmet straps as they tightened and loosed the straps repeatedly. Others twitched their fingers against their spears and bows.
No one spoke.
Words felt too heavy for a morning like this.
"Arthos, the soldiers are nervous. Perhaps you should address them as their commander." Princess Elencia said.
Arthos thought silently for a moment on what to say to inspire and motivate the soldiers standing by his side. He looked around catching their gaze one by one.
"No one here asked for this. No one wanted a war. We would have been happy living a peaceful life with our wives, husbands, and children…growing old on this good land. The land of your fathers and forefathers and fathers before them."
He continued, "a very ancient and wise man from earth, from my home, once said, "some people are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them!" He meant those words for us! None of us here were born to be here…standing here at this moment, standing here on this battlefield…destined to be part of history. This was not something that was carved into our veins or whispered to us in our mother's arms as we slept!"
"But we are here now! Know this…for many, greatness is not a crown! It's a choice! It's what you do when the storm descends upon you, on your families, on your home! Out there is a storm that threatens to end everything you love! It threatens to erase your very existence. Today we stand and we fight! Not for a crown, not for greatness! We fight for each other! We fight for our families, for our home, for our children and their children and the children that will come after them!"
"I promise you this, when this day ends, the world will remember this day! None will remember where each of us were born…they will remember where we stood! They will remember that free men and women gave their all and stood against an army!"
"Now stand together!"
"STAND TOGETHER!"
"STAND TOGETHER AS ONE!"
A thunderous roar erupted…it was not a scream, and it was not a shout. It was a release, a release of all the fear, worries, and doubts. It was a release of hope and valor that came from the soul. The release was contagious, and it lifted and strengthened the soldiers. A visible change could be seen as each man and woman stood straighter…as if refusing to be weighed down by fear.
"Nice speech." Neva said.
"We will need to call you Arthos the Orator for now on." Kristan teased.
A moment later a tsunami of roars erupted from the forest north of the village. The red orc army had arrived.
The ground trembled as they marched. To the villagers on the ground and to those on the palisade it felt like a vibration, a dull thudding from the earth itself. Birds burst into flight from the nearby tree tops, fleeing in a frantic evacuation.
DUM! DUM! DUM!
The orc's drums began…they sounded deep, almost bone-breaking, booming sound that held an eerie promise of carnage to come. A war-pulse…one designed to intimidate their prey.
The red orcs soon came into vision, not as a uniform rank-and-file army…but as a hoard. A desperate, hungry, and violent hoard too big to command and too big to control. Thousands of orcs emerged equipped with swords, axes, and clubs.
Far into the distance, their chief sat ridding a giant boar…easily three times the size of an elephant. The boar's giant tusks had been equipped with razor sharp blades intended to mow down anything in its path.
On command, the drums and roars stopped. The orc army remained stationary for a moment while the chief savored the moment before the kill. He took his time, slow and deliberately he held the tidal force of destruction.
Arthos stood at the center of the wall smiling…he had his friends and family by his side. He had nothing to fear.
The chief orc waved his hand forward. The response was immediate. The first wave of orcs roared loudly…their collective roar was animal-like and savage. They charged forward like starving lions pouncing on fresh meat.
Arthos stood calm. His arms held out signaling the soldiers to hold…in battle timing is everything. They would need to hold until the right moment.
The orc army tried to encircle the village through the north-end but quickly realized the mud was too soft and their heavy bodies sank too deep. They quickly rerouted and headed toward the western wall.
The stage was set.