That night, the Sauron gave the Carnford camp no peace.
In the dead of night, a band of Sauron scouts skilled in night fighting and infiltration used the cover of the snowy night to launch a small probing raid against the outskirts of the Carnford camp. Like phantoms in the snow, they attempted to silently pick off the sentries, sow chaos, or at the very least scout out the camp's true strength.
However, Carnford's defenses were far tighter than they had imagined. Tripwire mines planted in advance around the camp's perimeter detonated violently when the invaders triggered their wires. Fire and thunderous blasts tore open the night sky in an instant, flinging several Sauron soldiers at the forefront into the air.
At the same time, the military dogs kept in the camp, with their extraordinarily sharp sense of smell and hearing, erupted into warning barks. Patrols and concealed troops moved at the sound, and torches swiftly lit up the area.
Under the triple defense of mines, military dogs, and swiftly responding night-watch troops, the raid was like a small stone tossed into a deep pool. It ended hastily without stirring up any meaningful ripples, leaving behind only a few corpses and the spreading scent of fresh blood. Instead, it only made Carnford's sentries more vigilant.
The failed raid also made the Sauron realize that the enemy across from them was nothing like those Broomflower armies of old, whose footing could so easily be thrown into disarray by a night attack.
Snow fell on and off, like icy grains of salt scattered by the gods, covering the armor and tents of both sides, as well as the traces of yesterday's fierce battle.
This capricious weather became a crucial variable in the war.
That night, the commanders of both sides rose from