Sir Preston had taken up a position amongst the footmen, the better to steady the line. From the north came the enemy, marching in one solid mass. They looked like typical warriors, but their true nature became apparent as they drew closer, revealing their ghostly complexions.
The knight considered himself a brave man, and yet the sight of such spirits made the hair on his neck stand on end. He clamped down on his emotions.
"They try to scare us, but it"s all an illusion," he called out. "They can be killed as easily as any man. Stand your ground, and let them feel the vengeance of Mercerian steel!"
A cloud of arrows sailed overhead. Sir Preston watched them rush like a flock of birds towards the enemy before they descended in a sudden cloudburst, raining down death and destruction.
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