The two armies snarled at each other. Tension hung in the air, swirling in the damp mist. Breath clouded, and spit flew. Both countries longed to charge at the other, craving the blood that would be spilt. Mud flecked horses reared anxiously, sensing the fear that had wormed its way into the men’s minds. Restlessly they pawed the ground, reins drawn taught against their muscly necks, straining to break the grip of their stern masters’ hold. The beautifully embroidered cloth caparisons shimmered, and dew laced the glittering thread like diamonds on a ray of sun.  

A daunting castle glared down at the two squabbling armies from up on a hilltop. The spires climbed up into the gloomy sky above, winding through the curling fog. The slope rolled down into flat, grassy marshland, the castle’s overcasting shadow burying it in dull darkness. An oncoming storm began to sweep over heather mountains in the distance. Rumbling growls echoed from the grey, aggressive clouds.    

Rows of glinting shields created a wall of defence. Between the ferocious men a strip of grass lay untouched, yet in just a few minutes it would be trampled into dust. Pikes thrust upwards, preparing to break armour. Bows were drawn taut, and arrows quivered in shaking hands, ready to be unleashed on the enemy. Ready to pierce flesh. Ready to kill.  

Banners billowed in a sudden gust of wind, bringing with it stinging rain. It poured down from the sky, a torrent of water spilling over the muddy landscape. Splatting on helmets, the water thundered down, creating a racket. Faces grimaced as the dagger-like drops drove into their skin.  

Various commands bounded across the flowing hillside as the armies prepared to attack. One final order was issued when the spiked arrows were let loose. The battle had begun.