7 YEARS AGO – VEYER 44, 3904

VENRAL – CITY CONQUERED BY THE DARK ORC HORDES

Battle of Venral –

General Harold Winsten is one of the greatest strategists and commanders in the history Seven Duchies. On that most horrible day, my counterparts and I learned that undeniable truth. Facing an army almost ten times as large as ours, his tactics proved to make the odds much more bearable. Hope was lost during the Hordes first charge at our lines. Their numbers seemed endless as we gazed upon that sea of dark brown and green bodies thunder towards us. Yet, through a single maneuver, our lines held strongly 10 to 1.

If you overlook his brutish language and his tendency to swear at every moment, he would be considered the greatest role model one such as I can follow. Unfortunately, after learning about the pettiness of the Royal Family during that battle, he would not teach anyone and even made his goal to retire as clear as daylight. It is a shame one such as him, a national treasure can be treated so horribly based on the whims of a child.

Commander Teven Awrk Estreius, Of the Falen Duchy

POV – General Harold Winsten

"Today GLORY will be ours! We will return home Victors!" Screamed an over-enthusiastic commander with all his being.

It would have been wonderful for morale to have someone so outspoken and loud speak to the army, but when you are in a large tent with him it can be... quite bothersome.

He looked at Roland, who was sitting to his right in front of the enormous map of the city of Venral and its surroundings, only receiving a patient smile and a nod.

Sighing, Harold was beyond irritated,

'Why does this glory hound always have to be first when I call for a meeting? Glory this, Glory that, Victory this, Victory that! The Aist are always loud ...'

Sitting in front of Harold was Aden, a man of extreme build... He was as tall as a Dwarf! Even as bulky as one. If not for his pure lineage, one would think he was one. Then again when do you find a Dwarf that can't drink to save his life? It was the only way to get him to be quiet. Just get a servant to keep refilling his cup with wine or ale. After two cups he usually would be dead asleep.

'Two cups! My daughters can drink more than this fool! Then again, they are both quite the handful.'

Laughing at memories of better times, the other commanders finally walked in.

First came in the youngest commander in the history of the Seven Duchies. If not for his excellent mind, Harold would have kicked him out of the army; consequences be damned. Teven Awrk Estreius was only 23 years old! The youngest commander after him was 47.

'Those Falens have been growing strong these last few decades. Nurtured through extreme conditions in that most unholy forest of theirs. What convinced them to send their noble children into that Soldier's Blackhole is beyond me.'

Teven had a lean build and sported the Falen traditional soldier's cut. The hair on the sides of their heads was cut entirely off while everything on top was grown then tied into a long braid. His sharp eyes and perpetual smirk were that of a calculating individual.

Making a mental note to himself, Harold's eyes sharpened.

'I cannot underestimate this child. His eyes speak greatly of his capabilities.'

The second man was someone the general hoped to forget. Malif Earl was a cowardly man. A disgrace to the Orbeian Duchy and himself. Time and time again he proved to want to run away or hide behind his soldier instead of facing his enemies.

'Ugh, how will I live after the shame this man has brought on such an important occasion? At least the other two have redeeming qualities that make them some of the best. All this man can do is soak up hits for true warriors to counter.'

Malif was a fat and tall man that wore full plate everywhere he went. He was of the belief that even during your sleep, a stray arrow can still find you. Everyone in this tent wondered if he slept with his armor on.

As they walked in, an enormous grin blossomed on Teven's face as he caught a glimpse of the general's distaste towards Aden before it turned to that practiced straight expression.

Teven commented,

"It seems that Aden here is being his usual self." Laughing at Aden's sudden change into anger he continued, "My, aren't the people of Aist so obnoxious."

Fuming Aden jumped to his feet and pointed menacingly at Teven while screaming,

"Watch your words, Child! Or I will teach you what your parents did not!"

As Teven began to retort, the general's patience had thinned, with an authoritative voice he commanded,

"Enough! We are not here to bicker like children. We move onto Venral in 3 days. Be seated and give your reports to Roland and begin with the debriefing."

After giving their reports in, they began listing everything the general wanted from them in extreme detail.

The three commanders were sent by the surrounding duchies as a symbol of unity. All three had sent 10,000 men each. Including the Generals 40,000 and the Mage Corps of 800. They were a force to be reckoned with.

Of all the general's greatest hopes, was that they did not include politics into this most pivotal battle. Yet, the promised soldiers of the Royal Duchy were not sent. In their stead came the 5th son of the Royal family (Laviths) and with him 55 Raug battle slaves given by the Dragonian Empire for a large shipment of pleasure slaves and servants. It seemed that the Raug cannot be tamed to fill those roles; only used for entertainment in colosseums and war.

But the general did not believe all the myths concerning the Raug and their battle prowess. To him, another ten thousand soldiers were more capable than any 55, no matter their race. So... he lost his temper and got into a yelling competition with the 5th son.

It did not end well.

Now he was nowhere to be found, and only a messenger was sent to convey his most 'sincere' apologies for not being able to show up.

'Not showing up on this DAY!'

He fumed,

'We are meant to plan this attack with him as a representative of the Royal Duchy! Where is the unity they speak of to the masses!'

Noticing his anger, Roland put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder and whispered to him so the others cannot hear,

"Be calm, Harold. This anger does not suit you. The 5th son and his 55 soldiers will not truly impact the battle, so forget him for now. We have bigger fish to catch. And once we win this battle without his aid, you can finally force the Royal's hand in giving you that fertile land within their borders."

"Thank you, Roland. Now ..."

After calming down, the general looked towards the map and found himself lost in all the possibilities and probabilities of this battle. While the Opening of the Venral Mountains to the west was the prime place for the Dark Orcs to receive reinforcements from farther towards the sea, the general kept looking towards the Welen Pass towards the east. Thought to be unpassable, the pass was a death trap to any human soldier that passed.

The key word here was 'Human.'

The Dark Orcs were an unforgiving race. Forcing their soldiers into the most impossible of situations just for the smallest advantage. It was how he kept winning all his battles against them; they were unpredictably predictable. He expected them to send over fifty thousand soldiers through that pass and only ten towards the Opening. From those that enter the pass, only five thousand should survive. So, he planned to send six thousand towards the Opening with the Aist soldiers and five thousand men with the Falen soldiers towards the pass. Each supported by a Mage Corp of two hundred mages, while twenty-four thousand men would surround the city. As for the reserves, he would keep the Orbes soldiers and five thousand of his men in case of any unexpected situation.

Looking back at his commanders with a smile, he told them his battle plan.