George was advancing at the head of an army.
The journey had been fairly uneventful. He had encountered neither battles nor enemies. The canyon seemed vast, with an endless chain of peaks stretching into the distance. He thought he could faintly hear the cries of wyverns, though he could not tell which direction they came from. But that peaceful march did not last long. His years of training had made him exceptionally alert, and he soon spotted signs of enemies. He shouted, "Enemies approaching! Prepare for battle!"
"Heh heh heh!"
A burst of eerie cackling rang out, followed by the appearance of several hunched, hideously vicious-looking creatures. They looked vaguely like women, but their faces were grotesque. They wore tattered robes and carried staves made of bone.
"Not good!"
George's heart sank at the sight. He muttered, "Hags! Damn it!"
"All troops, attack! Charge with me!"
Hags.
They were a kind of fiend from the Lower Planes. Hags had been among the enemies during the last invasion of Port Nyanzaru. They were difficult foes to deal with and could cast all manner of bizarre spells. The men around him were ordinary soldiers. If he let the hags cast freely, more than half could fall in a single round. This was no time to wonder where the hags had come from. He had to find any way he could to close in on them and deny them the chance to cast. As a member of a melee class, George knew all too well the terrifying consequences of giving spellcasters enough distance.
The battle erupted in an instant.
George immediately charged, rushing up to the leading hag and bringing his sword down. Behind him came the soldiers who had received his order to charge. Their strength was roughly equivalent to that of