One particular bolt from a medium-weight ballista, took the heads off of several soldiers standing near the Tyrant. Yzerian-rath, for probably the first time in his entire life, felt real fear. His commanders were trying to get the men formed-up to launch their attack. He saw his slave army being mowed down in droves! Also for the first time, he knew what desperation and defeat looked like. The engine-troopers of the High King had been given somewhat larger incendiary jars for bodies of troops. These were now being loosed with crushing effect. But as many as were being cut down, many more of the Despot's slave-soldiers were standing to ranks, preparing to charge the massed brigades of the High King. Yzerian-rath saw the Heavy Horse gallop in from the flanks and form-up for their charge. His heart sank as their numbers kept increasing. Looking down the lines of his own troops, he now knew that they stood little chance of withstanding the charge of Heavy Horse. His commanders looked about them, seeing the quiet desperation of the troops, knowing in their hearts that they were facing, for once, a true professional army. As the last of the slave-army made it to shore and trudged to their positions, the horrific fire from his enemies engines, slackened and then.....stopped. Yzerian-rath knew what was coming next. He saw banners go up, all along the lines of the High King's army. Peering at the banner, it had, painted on it, a sword and a horse's head, the signal for the Heavy Horse! He also saw troopers still going down, in ones and twos. Scanning the sky about him, the sun just beginning it's rise, he saw demons, still raining down flights of arrows on his helpless troops. The packed body of troops were easy prey for the Maiden-Archers, a sure aim was not a requirement, just loose in amongst the body of troops, someone would be taken down. He watched as the banners dropped to the ground and then felt the earth beneath his booted feet shake and tremble. He looked and saw the Horse at trot, dressing their lines as they came on.From a blast on a trumpet somewhere, he took note that the Heavy Horse had gone from 'trot' to 'canter', the ground shaking harder, the trembling he felt in his feet, he knew his troops could feel the same. And then another trumpet blast and he thought the earth was trembling and shaking so much that, at any moment it would open up and swallow whole his remaining army. On came the Heavy Horse of the High King. He heard his commanders yell and scream for the slave army to, Hold!........Hold!.....Hold! Out of the corner of his eye he could see that men in the rear had begun to melt away, running, trying to find some safe haven before that massive charge of horse and armored-rider struck, bowling over the front-lines, the riders' longswords out, slicing their way towards the rear. Turning from the sight of his disintegrating army, he looked back just in time to see the 'Horse make contact with the wavering lines of troopers, whipped and lashed into formation. He saw the mounted and armored riders pull their swords from the off-side of their mounts and watched, almost dispassionately, as they began laying about them in all directions, the carnage only just starting. As he tried to get word to his commanders, he felt the ground beneath him tremble violently again. Turning to look at the massed brigades he saw hundreds, if not thousands of troopers pull their longswords from their scabbards, saw them place the tips of the great-sword on their right shoulders, saw them heft the tower-shields in the 'carry' position, and knew then, his time had come.
