"But the numbers, Akaru!" cried Stanick. "Nearly one-hundred-forty thousands! Have you taken leave of your senses?"
"Stanick, old friend," said Akaru patiently, "you and I both are trained in the arts of mobile warfare. Those trained in siege warfare reside in Lund, and would not hesitate at what I now propose, because it is their own manner of warfare. As to that, I wish some of their number were with us now! Regardless, how many of the Enemy may pass at any given time through a narrows some thirty feet wide?"
Stanick's eyes went wide. "Shades!" he exclaimed in sudden comprehension. "We could hold them until-"
"AT LEAST until hunger has crippled their resolve, and considerably affected their fighting ability!" finished Akaru. "Ultimately, we will fail, of course. This is but one army, and probably the least of the Demon King's forces. Another will soon come, and we will be trapped between the hammer and the anvil. But before we die, the Valley of Baruk will flow with the blood of our enemies, and the Evil One will know doubt. We defenders who now fight to hold the Valley of Baruk are doomed to the last man, Stanick, but we have one chance at victory; a MORAL victory; the act of a free people, fighting of their own free will, unto death, to preserve their loved ones, and to show the Enemy that one free man is worth a hundred slaves to tyranny!"