The sound of a thousand breaths echoing in a thousand helmets filled the first few ranks. Behind, standards fluttered in the breeze, undulating with the same determined beat of the warriors. The sun rose behind them, casting the field in a glorious, golden light. It was a good omen.
The heavens were smiling on the Golden Horde. Though chaos still loomed ahead, order would soon be brought to bear as sure as the dawn was ending the night. It was a certainty, as sure as the dawn.
A horn sounded in the distance and a cloud of smoke rose on the horizon. The earth shook as the wild ones marched forth. Their army outnumbered the Golden Horde three to one, but that did not cause a stir among the ranks.
General Gradicus observed how the wild ones marched forward. Their steps were out of time with each other and their ranks bent like a reed in the wind. This was not a professional army, merely a mob meant to scare and intimidate.
Gradicus allowed himself a small smile as he wrote several orders on scraps of parchment. These orders were handed to nearby runners who sped off towards the designated officer. This army was not easily scared and would show this rabble what true military force can do.
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