The Crusaders had put up a good fight, but word had reached Artyem that they were soon to crack under the pressure. He knew that the Knights from a distant land known as Acre had a large number of healthy troops left to fight, but he had estimated their gold reserves would be running low. Would the war end sooner than later? Was the unnecessary continuation of the bloodshed avoidable? Perhaps.
Assuming the Crusaders were indeed running low on resources, it was guessed that they would not last much longer in their keep. Rumors of disease and plague had escaped the walls, a fast spreading death that had supposedly claimed thousands of lives. Their cavalry was devoted to destroying the attacker's catapults. Lunging from the walls, and sprinting the rest of the distance, willing to give up their lives for even one shot at a piece of siege equipment.
Both sides grew tired as time went on, it would soon become a matter of will and courage. Who could put up the longest fight, who had the most expendable power? Neither party involved wanted to find out, the war had already been bloodier than anyone could have predicted. An offer was made, plans formed in the event of rejection, differences sorted and acceptances made.
Would this be the end of it all?
