As the vanguard breaks into a trot, your thoughts drift to Marna, and your unborn child, for the briefest of moments. Then the word is passed up the line, and the time has come. You spur your horse into a canter, and then a full on gallop, keeping pace with the King as you swing an iron-tipped lance into position.
The battle seems to shrink down around you, and you focus on the men in front of you through a haze of snow. A screen of the crazed men emerges in front of the block of axmen that had been the initial target of the charge. The seconds tick away, and you spare a quick glance for the King before focusing on one of the crazed men.
You take aim, brace yourself, and then feel the crack of impact shudder up your shoulder, nearly knocking you from your horse. You expertly recover your balance with your knees, not even bothering to swing your attention back around to the man you targeted, certain that he now has several feet of lance protruding from his gut.
Tossing the shattered lance aside, you pull out your longsword, and begin to lay into the stout men around you. An ax thuds heavily into your leg, and you grimace in pain. Your armor turned the blow away, but the plate is now pressing into you uncomfortably. You twist in the saddle, and your horse tramples the man underfoot into thick mud.
The next minutes are a horrid blur of chopping, blocking, parrying, and combat. You stay at the King's side, helping him push deep into the enemy formation. Soon, your men are out on the other side, and are preparing to make another round. Out of the corner of your eye, however, you notice that the Duke's men have sallied forth from the Keep.
You only have a split second. Do you try to get the King's attention, and move to support the Duke, or will you simply follow the King as he crashes the vanguard back into the main body of the enemy.