As the army advanced through the fog towards the mound upon which the two formations fought, they could see the golden glow in the distance and nothing around them but fog and darkness, and the frosty ground upon which they threaded rhythmically as they marched into the fray. But the night was silent, and nothing could be heard on the field except the sound of a distant battle and the sound of the march.

  The sound of the marching army grew suspiciously louder and louder, and the men grew worried about the strange occurrence.

  "Stop!“ the commander yelled, and as soon as the human army stopped, they realized that the sound of the march they heard was not only their own.

  They stood in the middle of the field, in the fog and night, and looked around with worried expressions. Soon enough, many could hear the sound of a thousand feet coming closer, and from the mist, the army of ur'gluns appeared and approached them from a flank, shrouded in a thick layer of fog and darkness. Their armors were dark and crude, with many dents from hammer blows printed upon their cold, hard surface, and their blades were coarse but sharp as well.

  Upon the rime-covered hill beneath the layer of creeping mist, there stood Morkaag, yelling and ordering his troops to advance. The most elite of the ur'glun kind, clad in the thickest armors from ur'glun forges, advanced from behind the hill with their spears raised high and shields resting by their side.

  After a couple of shouts in their strange tongue, the dark ur'glun army came charging down the hill towards the ranks of men. The sound of the charging army echoed from the nearby woods and hills, and their steps shook the ground while the human infantry braced their spears and shields, preparing to hold their ranks.

  The two armies clashed, and ur'glun blades, crude and dark, cut through the mist and straight through chainmail and plate, shields and spears of the ranks of men. The savage warriors of the dark side swung their blades, clashing them against the formations of mankind. Yet the men fought bravely, though flanked and taken by surprise.

  It was obvious that Nal'zuk had sent his rank-breakers straight into the fray, led by Morkaag against the flank of the numerous infantry that fought for mankind. The large ur'gluns swung their blades, their size matching the size of men, but their strength was unmatched. Their strikes broke through wooden shields and sliced through the handles of spears.

  What they left behind could only be described as a massacre sown upon the already shattered and broken army of those brave enough to stand up against the dark forces of Nal'gorah. Limbs were cut, and heads rolled down upon the frosty ground, accompanied by the sound of howling steel breaking through the wooden shields.

  Oaken planks broke and shattered into splinters. The steel links of chainmail snapped, along with the steel plates of bracers and shinguards. But what did not break was the unbreakable spirit of the men fighting for what lay behind them.

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  Amidst the heavy casualties their ranks suffered, the men managed to match Nal'zuk's forces. They went straight into the carnage, holding their formation as one. As the fight wore on, both sides suffered heavy losses.

  The ur'glun forces, both the rank-breakers and the clansmen clad in steel plate behind them, were strong and fierce. Yet their strength and ferocity paled in comparison to the ferocity of the black rugol horde fighting the cavalry.

  Henry could see in the distance the two great battles fought on the dark fields of Oxendell, shrouded in mist lit by the blaze of countless torches held by men. With Eleanor by his side, he limped as fast as his injured leg could carry him, supported by a spear in his shield hand, straight into the fray.

  Ahead, he saw a portion of the cavalry breaking through the black legions of Nal'gorah. A front of formation had pierced the carnage, straight towards Nal'zuk's position, led by Nogryl, the champion of mankind himself.

  The night was dark and veiled in fog. The most elite knights of mankind rode through the black rugol ranks. Nogryl rode first at the tip of the wedge, with Alwyn, his squire and friend, on his left, Aryon on his right, and One-eyed Sir Daymon behind. Together, they led the charge of a handful of knights.

  Behind the cavalry, the battle raged restlessly. Men and beasts fell dead, their bodies covering the frozen ground.

  As Henry and Eleanor charged into battle with what strength remained, Henry noticed something massive moving through the fog. The screams of the battlefield were nearly silenced by a loud, harsh roar.

  It was not the voice of a man nor an ur'glun. Not even the rugols could growl as menacingly as this sound. Through the thick fog, an enormous creature emerged. Its skin was rough and covered in hides, its head round, and its tusks like those of a great boar.

  A roaring troll charged towards the ranks of men, breaking through spears and shield walls as if they were twigs. Yet none of the men ran. No cowards remained at this point in the battle.

  "Kill the troll!“ the infantry commander screamed at the top of his lungs. An entire forest of spears charged towards the creature while their comrades barely held the line against Morkaag's rank-breakers and Nal'zuk's ur'glun horde.

  Shattered bodies flew as the troll swung its hammer, breaking and disfiguring helmets and shields. The human formation quickly crumbled.

  For Henry, the sight promised an honorable death. Without hesitation, he charged as fast as his limping leg allowed, Eleanor following behind. Closing in, he hurled his lantern at the beast. Oil poured over the troll’s shoulder.

  "Torch! Hit him with the torch!“ he yelled. Countless torches and lanterns flew at the rampaging troll, yet none managed to ignite the oil. Still, the spinning flames frightened the monstrous giant.

  Frightened troll charged through the human ranks, impaled by countless spears breaking inside its flesh. Eleanor rushed across the battlefield, dodging arrows and blows, picking up a burning torch.

  The troll swung its hammer to crush her, but the nimble girl dodged by a hair's breadth, dashing between its strides and slicing its hamstring with a spinning cut. Before the troll could turn, she lodged her blade into its back, leaped onto its shoulders, and gripped its flesh with her sword for balance.

  The creature struggled violently, but Eleanor clung on. With the torch in her other hand, she ignited the oil.

  Creature blazed like a massive torch, its deafening screams shaking the air and the trees. As it thrashed in agony, one swing of its heavy hand struck Eleanor, sending her plummeting to the frozen ground. She landed with a crunch and lay still.

  The burning troll fled towards the forest, hundreds of blazing spears impaled in its body.