Like a tide of flame, the men of the west marched out of the forest with torches with gleaming helmets and swords. It was slow and ominous, but make no mistake, for they were here. "[sub]Get those engines in place![/sub]" one voice could be heard from far off. "[sub]Get moving! Form ranks![/sub]" another called. Just out of bowshot, the men began to form up in rough lines. 40 men across, and 10 men deep were the ranks. The Cavarly stayed to the side, ready to take any advantage they could from the coming battle. 

One single torched moved out of the army of men below the walls, riding up closer to the gates. It was Rylen the crusader. He reined his horse in, and to those watching, they could see he simply looked up at the battlements. "Hail! Fortress of the pass!" he called, his words echoing across the valley and walls. "We come to take this pass in the name of our God and people! It was not we who cast the first stone, but that very stone has begun an avalanche that will bury your world if you oppose us!" 

He let his words sink in, before continuing. "You need not die today!" he explained. "We give free passage to any who wish to leave. We want to the pass, not your lives. Flee, and you will be spared. Stay, and once we break through, those who attempt to flee later will be given no quarter. Choose now."
[@SlashInfinite]