The Emir sat up, suddenly interested. “You’re saying a rabble of peasants with clubs can beat my holy knights?”
He moved his finger to a sketch of a chainmail-clad knight. “The Templar. Cost: 40 gold. Armour: a staggering 5. He can take an arrow to the chest and barely grunt. But look here—” he tapped a footnote, “—his attack speed is glacial. One swing per 48 frames of combat.” stronghold crusader unit stats
“Statistically, my lord… yes. Provided you get them into melee range without them being shot by Crossbowmen first.” He pointed to a third drawing. “And there is your true terror. Crossbowman. Range: 10. Reload time: 70 frames. But look at the damage value: 60. Enough to one-shot a Maceman or an Assassin. They are the rock to your scissors.” The Emir sat up, suddenly interested
The Emir stared at the scribe. Then he smiled, a cold, hungry smile. Cost: 40 gold
“Prepare my quill, little mouse. We have a crusader lord to teach… that his ‘brave knights’ are just slow, overpriced units with a fatal weakness to a 2-gold torch.”
The library fell silent. The Emir looked from the parchment to his own war tent, where he had just lost a siege because he sent 50 Templars into a chokepoint defended by 30 Macemen and 10 Crossbowmen on a tower.
“My lord,” Al-Rashid whispered, unrolling a massive, meticulously drawn parchment. “I have finished the calculus of blood.”
