Legate Rikke wiped a smear of dirt from her face, and scratched her arm. The Thalmor armies surrounding her Legion had halted, and much activity sprang through their ranks. It was dark now, and there had been little to no signs of action ever since the Thalmor surrounded her. The men had held firm, and they were ready for a fight.

Iroril Makrali sat on his horse, fully rested and fed. The decimation of his army earlier had little toll on his morale, and as a matter of fact boosted it. He wanted to destroy this Imperial Legion, and had a perfect opportunity to do it. Four other generals surrounded him, all confident. They were facing the front side of the Imperial flank, and had the perfect strategy for defeating them. They had ranks of archers who would send fire arrows into the Legion, catching their wood and clothing on fire. Then, in the disarray, the spearmen would launch their javelins into the men, which would be followed by a full infantry charge. At least, that's what Iroril would have wanted. The other generals were going to lead a standard advance.

" With respect, my plan would crush the Imperials much quicker, and with less casualties," Iroril pleaded. One of the other generals laughed, and said, " Your plan failed last time. Ours will crush them." Iroril shook his head, and then said, " At least here we can smash them with ease."

The other generals nodded in agreement. Iroril looked at the hill behind the Thalmor northern flank, and then at the Imperial City. The constant roar of Men and Mer clashing had died down to silence.

" What in Oblivion has happened?" one of the other generals exclaimed, noticing the absence of noise from the city. The other generals shrugged.

" When shall our attack commence?" Iroril asked.

" We shall wait until morning. Give the enemy one last rest," the lead general said.

The night was restless for the Legion. Rikke had stayed awake all night, while most of her troops slept. The Elves had been active all throughout the evening, with much drinking and singing coming from their lines. As a matter of fact, their battle lines had broken, and they had formed camp. It would be a perfect time to attack, but with this amount of Thalmor, the tiny Legion would stand no chance. As the sun rose in the east, the troops began waking up, and readying themselves for battle.

The first line of Thalmor began taking steps forward. Synchronized. No missteps. None out of line. A perfect formation.

All around the Legion, arrows sailed from the rear, sailing to the Imperials, who blocked it with their shields.

The march sped up.

Then, as if Akatosh himself had smiled down on the Imperials, the distinct Horn of the Emperor sounded from the Thalmor army closest to the City.

The hill behind them began shaking. Then, a line of horses appeared. And then another. Two men rode ahead.

Ataurus, Dragonbane on his side, adjusted his Imperial Dragon Armor, and looked at the Champion to his left. He then turned around and looked at the army of Imperial Guard, all on horseback. They weren't scared. There was no fear, no turning back. The Redguard, on the flanks and in the rear, numbered in three thousand and five hundred strong. The Guard was but five hundred. King Raccan rode ahead of the army, and joined the Dragonborn and the Champion.

Ataurus reared his horse back and rode to the army.

" Men of Tamriel! Today we ride forth into the dark, and will show these Elven bastards what the Empire stands for! Today, shields will be splinted, spears shall be shaken! There could come a day when the courage of Men fails, but it is not this day! This day we fight! This day, we will make sure the Empire lives once more!" he bellowed. The men roared with approval. A surge of morale went through the line, and the army raised their swords and spears in their war cry. The front line lowered their spears, and Ataurus rode down the the left side. He clattered Dragonbane against the wooden spears as he went down the line.

" Ride now! Ride now!"

As he reached the end of the line and went back to the Champion and Raccan, he raised his sword and yelled, " For the Empire!"

The troops roared once more.

The Champion ripped out Sunderblade and cried, " For Tamriel!"

" Forward Legion!"

The horns sounded again.

At that, the Dragonborn, Champion, and King began riding forward, their swords extended. The men cried once again, and began charging forward. A tidal wave of horses, all rushing the Thalmor.

" Fire!" Iroril cried. All Thalmor archers turned to the horsemen and fired. Their Elven accuracy failed them.

" Oh, shit," a general whispered.

The Legion slammed into the Elves, ripping straight into the northern army. Golden armor shattered, and Elven swords broke on impact.

" Chaaaarrrrrrrge!" Rikke cried, dashing ahead of her men. They followed, roaring wildly.

Ataurus cut down dozens of Thalmor, trying to reach the Legate.

" Charge! Charge!" the general to Iroril's right cried, shoving one of the horn blowers. The horn blowers bellowed their notes. The Thalmor charged, and the battle began.