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Selwyn's rock fortress, one of the vital passes that guarded the capital's outskirts, crumbled in less than half a day under the destructive assault of Aleisterre's battlemage corps.
This crushing blow drove home a grim realization for the soldiers and citizens of Selwyn: their ancient adversary had grown far beyond Selwyn in strength over the years. What had once been a balanced contest was now tilted decisively in Aleisterre's favor.
"Form up! Everyone, to the walls! Ballista crews and crossbowmen—stand by!"
"Where are the alchemical golems from the warehouse? Drag them all out—Destroyers, Guardians, even the old gnomish siege machines. Feed them every mana crystal we've stored—we don't have the mages to use those stones, so the golems get them instead!"
"Deathsworn! Prepare to lie in ambush beneath the snowdrifts—clutch your sacrificial daggers tight. For the glory of Selwyn, offer up your lives to our Lord! You shall be guaranteed a place in the divine kingdom that will rise after our victory!"
Orders echoed from every quarter of Selwyn's capital. News of the rock...
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