Over the orange horizons of that Jewelled City of the Desert did the sound of war drums echo in the distance. Bone beat upon stretched animal hide, the hollow thuds merging with the inchoerent chantings of shamans and whipped slaves. As the beat picked up, the crunch of sand under the boot of the conquerers could be heard, edging ever closer to liberate the Sandpeople's Capital from their decadence, from their haze of ignorance and malpractice. For here has come the Saviour, the Liberator! King of the Free, Breaker of Chains! Marov! Marov! Marov! Chant his name and all who hear shall tremble before the Might of his Wind and Fire! The legions are lined up and their deaths are not thought of. For they must make the sun-bleached dunes of Mutajara their final resting place. That, or the sand behind those mighty, towering walls. A majority are indoctrinated, the rest fearful for retaliation. But this is an inevitable fact: War had come to the Walls of Mutajara.... finally.
The two thousand men who had made their approach towards Mutajara through a narrow mountain pass had finally set up against the city, these men being of the hardened variety; Marov's Own. Heavily armored in modified equipment taking insipration from the Bedu tribes of the Azaharr, these pure infantrymen seemed to be the main punching force against the walled city. The 4,000 southeast of the city still kept ready, keeping fortifications close so as to not endanger communication and supply lines. The cage that had once been hauled into the field had been retrieved long ago, back towards the safety of allied lines. The roars could still be heard.
At Tikhameru, the shamans whipped up storms to protect them from any sally attempts from the Tikhameruian garrison, though this actioned dwindled as no action took part throughout the seige. No attacks against the Mandarazi Navy could prevent them from supplying the City, yet the mere presence of these forces allowed no respite nor succor of laxness.
Marov stayed sheltered within his tent. His cold eyes gazed over the horizon as he looked down towards the City. This would be his day... A lieutenant arrived by his side; a slave boy no more than 16 Sands, whipped, dogged, chained. The preparation were set. The Beast was hungry. The City shall fall.
In regards to activity on this post, I would like to respectfully ask of those involved with the sieges of Tikhameru and Mutajara for some leniency regarding the time I need in making posts in response to actions. University is in full swing, so that is taking alot of my attention. I will be heavily monitoring this thread on Friday and the weekend. Feel free to coordinate posts and info with me on Discord. I would also ask that any posts regarding troop movement, supply consumptions, etc. to be header-ed with [SIEGE] and any character-centric info be header-ed with [INDIVIDUAL]. This is for any potential character specific subplots to not be bogged down with all the war RP. Lastly, pardon my lackluster performance. It is inexcusable at this point and has caused most of you grief. TL;DR: AMOH is [redacted].