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Our Scouts returned from their observations beyond the front lines. Where we suffered the effects of the cold the Thrax army suffered double. Men froze in position on sentry duty. Horses fell never to rise again. Our time to strike was now.
Captain Manx and I left the command tent with new orders from the general. Ready the men. We would push ahead and through. The Thrax army would now fall before our might.
Energy and heat returned to my men. With the goal in sight they were renewed. We marched through at first light, refreshed and ready for war.
I saw it before the call was taken up by the men. The bitter cold proved too much for the Thrax encampment. By the look of it, nature had done more to them than we ever could with sword or bow.
Guards stood frozen at their posts, forever at the ready position, but never to move again. As we moved through the camp we found more men, more horses, all dead. The weather, maybe with another’s help, proved well beyond their abilities to survive.
What magic the old wizard conjured, well, I am not privvy to such knowledge. But I saw it with my own eyes. An army, an entire army, wiped out. Magic may not have been the cause, but it assisted in their deaths.
Sure the ol’ wizard helped us this time. But his aid is cold comfort to the knowledge that he could change his mind.