Chapter 8: The March of Fire and Flesh
Chapter 8: The March of Fire and Flesh Dawn cracked blood-red over the eastern horizon as Sir Salty rode at the head of the greatest allied force Virellia had assembled in a century. The ground shook beneath the thunder of hoofbeats, the clash of pike and shield, the creak of ballistas, and the rattle of wagonloads full of cannonballs and black powder . Behind him, a tide of warriors spilled across the old road to Cairnwood: — Lancers , armour shining like dragon-scale, thundered on warhorses with lances lowered and pennants snapping in the wind. — Archers , faces calm, eyes sharp, marched with longbows slung across their backs, their quivers full of silver-fletched arrows blessed by the forest druids. — Crossbowmen , their machines cranked and loaded, stomped in lockstep, ready to unleash bolts that could pierce ogre bone. —And at the rear, a siege train of war machines , including great cannons loaded with fresh iron shot and handled by the black-clad engineers of the Iro...