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The Barbarian King is not a subtle foe. He means to overwhelm your civilization with sheer numbers and brutality. As such, his force moves as one solid horde, spread not very thinly. Consequently, the move slowly, giving your people time to prepare, both physically and mentally.
On the eve before battle, all is quiet. Your civilization has never gone through a battle on a scale such as this, and so many do not know quite what to expect. In your history there has been internal strife, hunting animals and monsters, but never a conflict of this scale. There is fear, and doubt, and even the seers know not what will happen.
You do not allow them to reach your front door before the fighting begins. Your people, aided with illusion magic thanks to the sylvians, lie in wait until the moment is right, and strike. The forest comes to life with roars of battle as your forces collide with theirs, and the screams of the dying and wounded soon fill the air, mingling with battle cries. Your people strike from hidden places, large groups of them emerging from the brush or trees as the illusion magic fades, allowing you to take portions of their army by surprise. Your warrior-priests and the sylvian warriors add offensive magic to the mix, working alongside stone-throwers to pelt the enemy from afar.
The barbarians, however, are tough and fierce and many. They show no mercy to their foes, crushing the skulls and chests of any they capture and trample underfoot. Skirmishes between the two armies break out in continual roving groups as they move throughout the forest, trying to coordinate with each other but in the chaos of battle all cohesion is lost. Your people have never experienced such utter barbarity as conflict on a scale such as this, with waves of men crashing against each other, chopping, cutting, slicing, pummeling, crushing, stabbing and gutting. Blood paints the forest as the battle rages on; the river where the bulk of the battle takes place soon runs red.
In the midst of it all is the Barbarian King, possessed by the specter of the Star Serpent. He wades through the field of corpses, a mountain of a man, burning with unnatural energy and vitality. He picks up two men and crushes their skulls against each other before casting aside the bodies.
Your scions, the children of prophecy, have waited for their moment. They share one final moment together before charging into the fray. With their enhanced speed, strength and magical skill, brought about by their unique bloodline but also their fiery determination, they serve as a rallying point for your forces. They lead a final charge against the barbarian horde with the imposing king at its head meeting them in combat.
