Summoning Edwardian British Empire

Intervention

Continent of Embéron, World's End , Great Canadian Pass

Hours after the encounter

Unbeknownst to the encounter the main group of refugees forging ahead experienced, a tense standstill had taken shape at the entrance of the narrow pass. A diverse coalition of dwarves, halflings, and humans stood resolute, united by a common purpose. While many lacked battle experience, their determination remained unshaken. Each fleeting moment they could stall would grant precious time for their loved ones to find safety.

As they held their ground, the distant horizon gradually unveiled the ominous silhouette of their relentless pursuers. Emerging from a modest hill were vast ranks of rabbitfolk and lizardmen, a tide of creatures converging upon the defenders' makeshift line. Fear rippled through their ranks, manifesting in beads of sweat that adorned furrowed brows. It was in this charged atmosphere that an aged dwarf named Haeleg elevated his voice above the palpable trepidation.

"Ye brave lot, stand firm! The time we carve here be a blessing, a lifeline fer our kin's escape. We'll not budge, not 'til the very last o' us!"

His words resonated with profound conviction, igniting a defiant roar from the beleaguered defenders. On the opposing side, among the ranks of rabbitfolk, a distinguished figure bedecked in ornate armor stepped forward, his voice cutting through the clamor.

"How arrogant of them to believe they can thwart our advance with so meager a force. They underestimate us if they think a mere five hundred can impede the momentum of our three thousand."

A nearby soldier nodded in agreement.

"Indeed, my lord. Their audacity blinds them. Yet, their chosen position raises concerns. Atop that hill, within that narrow pass. While victory certainly belongs to us, we might still endure substantial losses."

"Nagit, you lean too heavily on pessimism. The force before us consists of little more than unseasoned peasants, malnourished and wearied. Our losses would be minimal," countered another rabbitfolk, his tone laced with assurance.

The rabbitfolk adorned in lavish armor gave a nod of agreement and spoke up.

"Indeed, Delral speaks the truth. Our only consideration should be the swiftness with which we can vanquish them. Every moment that slips by, my spoils of war inch further from my grasp. Nagit, relay the command to spare the elderly. Let them deal with the youth as they please, but the elderly may yet prove valuable as blacksmiths."

He continued with a sinister grin, 

"Oh, Nagit, also order to spare the attractive one. I have something special in mind for them."

"Yes, sir," Nagit acknowledged dutifully. The lavishly armored figure then turned his attention to another.

"Delral, you shall lead the advance. May your triumph be swift."

Delral bowed deeply, a glint of gratitude brightening his eyes as he replied, 

"Thank you, my lord. I shall not disappoint you."

As the bulk of the rabbitfolk army surged forward, the majority of the lizardmen forces mirrored their advance. But their march was suddenly halted midway, as an unexpected figure emerged from the hill ahead. About four hundred individuals, clad in brownish attire and bearing an unfamiliar flag, came into view. This unforeseen contingent seemed to strike surprise among enemies ahead. A hushed exchange ensued, and the morale among the dwarves, halflings, and humans on the defensive line surged. It was as though a savior had materialized.