While the last light of sunset could still reach across the Misty Mountains, Allen's and Círdan's orders had already spread throughout the army.
At their officers' shouts, Allen's heavy cavalry gathered into one small wedge formation after another.
Forming separate squads rather than massing together allowed the cavalry greater freedom of movement.
After all, their opponents were Wargs in the service of the Dark Lord, agile creatures capable of turning back at speed.
If the heavy cavalry massed together, their bulky formation would be easy prey for an intelligent enemy's tricks.
Using wedge formations suited to charging through enemy ranks would give the heavy cavalry greater striking power and scatter the Wargs more quickly.
To improve the heavy cavalry's chances of survival, Allen had every rider switch to a reserve horse and equip it with Full Barding. This protected the mount's entire body against the bites of Wargs leaping at them during a head-on collision.
As time passed, more than a dozen small wedges of heavy cavalry slowly spread out across the wilderness.
The riders gripped their Heavy Cavalry Lances, each more than two meters long, their expressions as calm as still water. Allen's mounted troops consisted entirely of Swadia Knights and Khergits cavalry, with almost no Northern Men among them.
Here and now, charging countless Wargs with so many allies at their side was nothing to them.
Even if Allen ordered them to charge behind them and break through a formation of tens of thousands of Half-orcs alone, they would advance without hesitation.
Allen, meanwhile, rode his Elves Horse before the ranks, delivering his final address before battle.
Yet his words were remarkably brief.
"Warriors of Rhovanion, charge with me!"
As he spoke, Allen raised his lance and led the charge toward the approaching Wargs.
As his clear voice