A violent beginning.
"Sire, the troops are tired and uncertain and defeat looks inevitable, what are your orders?" Galright is your 2nd in command, and his troubled words need a bold reply.
You survey the landscape intently. You know you are exposed on the dry lifeless plain across which your army is in formation. Your allies were supposed to have signalled you by now, a fact that weighs heavily on your senior soldiers who look increasingly concerned. To the east lies the mountains from which the dwarves were to emerge from the Great Forged Door, and to the west the elvish forces were to be stationed amongst the trees. Neither ally has been true to their word, a betrayal that will not be forgotten.
On the horizon the banners of the horde are shrouded in dust kicked up by an army so vast that it churns the stomach just thinking about the fight to come. The fear in the eyes of the your men is palpable but you know you can not let them see you feel the same. Behind your ranks is the distant outline of the rocky marshes beyond which lies Adril's Gate, the giant fortress keeping the kingdom of men safe from the savage orcs that roam the plains north of the wasteland that bridges our lands.
One of your senior soldiers loses his discipline and snaps, "We should never've trusted those treacherous dwarves, nor those cowardly elves!"
Galright grabs him, "Watch your tongue, soldier. That's your King you are addressing."
You know now is not the time to enforce decorum, "Be calm Galright, we must not turn on each other. We barely held Adril's Gate against a much smaller force than the one that marches on us today. We needed the dwarvern artillery and the elven arrows, as well as the advantage of out flanking the enemy from both sides."
Galright speaks his mind, "But the Great Forged Door remains sealed and the forests at the birth of the Mother River remain empty. With all due respect, my liege, they have lead us to our deaths. Our army will never make it back through the gate in time."
An elven voice speaks up, "Not all of us can make it, but maybe we can use their aggression against them."
Galright almost smiles, "Ah, I'd almost forgotten some elves have balls. Welcome Duodrin." The old friends embrace.
Duodrin embraces you before explaining, "The undead forces to the north west are massing. The Council of Elves has moved our forces in that direction as there is not the natural protection that the great rivers afford us against the orcs. I have brought as many with me as I could, perhaps 200."
You know the seriousness of the undead threat, even if your men do not appreciate it so. Galright scoffs, "So how do we survive this day, that we can defend your kind whilst your council abandons us?"
Duodrin looks at you to confirm you are thinking the same thing then turns to Galright, "200 elves may not be worth a lot on the plains or in the trees where we'd be quickly overwhelmed. However if we had the high ground and with our rear secured then 200 elven bowmen would be lethal even to the thickest of hides." Galright nods, he knows first hand the famed accuracy of the elvish bow.
You take over, "Right, we need to funnel their forces and isolate their strength. In the mountain pass a small force of our most hardened men could hold the front line whilst your arrows pick them off. We must move the battle away from these open plains."
Galright looks puzzled, "Sire, you know as well as I that the blood thirsty greenbloods will follow our army until they get their day's fill of battle and we would be unable to get our men and horses through the pass before they cut us down from behind!"
You pat Galright on the shoulder and continue, "Galright, have the heavy cavalry remove the armour from the horses but keep the colours. Just as the dust clouds obscures their numbers, it will cover the retreat of our main forces."
Galright's expression starts to brighten as he realises the plan. "Which of our forces do we take to the pass, sire?"
You focus your thoughts, "Enough to hold the mountain pass, yet not too few as to give the orcs reason to doubt. Sound the horns Galright, gather the captains, time is of the essence!"