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The cavalry thunders on ahead, spears and lances ready, eager scouts and heavy cataphrachts all learning forward in the saddle. Bracing. Accelerating. The surprised opposition doesn't even know what really hits them - one moment they're a fully functional enemy formation and the next they're either dead or a scattered gaggle of fleeing, shaken soldiers.
Methodian's Heavies thunder straight through the enemy formation, fair shattering them, and with a surprised shout of " About time! " a weary looking group bursts from inside the grain storage, swinging everything they can get their hands on. Back behind Methodian, it descends into a brawl - but up ahead, a much sterner formation, fully formed. The others were disrupted and ocupied, taking by surprise, but this lot is forming up, officers shoving to their troops in line. And behind them, worse yet - barricades and stone walls. Even if the flesh and the flame yields, the collision might be painful.
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Sarjant Korsar's surrounding riders holler and jeer, chasing a breaking Sparksworn formation on their way. A few arrows clutter in their wake, but up ahead, the Sparksworn have tangled into each other - their archers trying to step aside and make way for their fighters, but the passage across the rock is too treacherous. No one's making much progress. . .
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Which is about Echo's experience too, scuttling backwards to keep a blade from his eye as seven angry soldiers burst from the building in the wake of the Cathapract charge. Mumbling praying Aspirants do not a fighting force make, and the whole march comes up entire short, gridlocked on the narrow confines, the formation shattered and everyone blocking everyone else!
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We have the advantage! They're at least as surprised as we are! They certainly weren't expecting reinforcements! GET 'EM!
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>Phase Two!
[Additional Info to Come. . . ]
