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Your honorguard are easy to make out, even through the hazy, gritty breeze of the skirmish -their linothorax is buffed and polished, and their gear is of uniform manufacture – products of your estate. Beyond their gear, you’d recognize the confident posture of their unit anywhere – men of common heritage don’t often strike together with courage and discernment.
As they draw close though, you see them faltering momentarily – they hesitate for just a moment as a group, before finding their nerve and sweeping up against your uncles, Mecisteus and Pronax. Despite their hesitation, they do so without spoiling the surprise – the Argive noblemen are still occupied with menacing your shellshocked troopers, while their recent victims stagger, scramble and hobble out of danger. The first wave of the honorguard dart in – but to your irritation, they don’t together in concert to topple your uncles like you had hoped they would. They attack in pairs, instead groups of three or four – they’re overconfident. A flurry of ineffective strikes bounces off the backs, shields, helms, and limbs of your uncles, as the <span class="mu-i">Inachian Honorguard</span> surround them. As your uncles spin to face this new assault, the shattered white-yellow battalion, seeing your honorguard arrive, wavers and begins to flee. They turn in your direction and begin to run. You will not allow them this luxury!
>"Panoplia of Aristomachus" ability revealed!
>In addition to a hefty +5 armor bonus, this armor provides Hippomedon the ability to overturn the failed morale roll of a single unit under his command, once per battle.
You roar at your fleeing troops, ordering them to turn and fight once more – and fearing you more than your uncles, they quickly huddle together once more, springing together into a pitiful huddle. As a fighting force, they’re useless in this state, but they can divide the attentions of your uncles, and this is valuable enough. Your honorguard quickly surrounds your uncles, a tight circle of fifty men against two, but they make a critical error – they crowd too closely together to maneuver freely. This hinders them when your uncles counter-strike – and counter-strike they do.
Pronax, a soldier near to your own ability, lashes out with his blunted speartip before abruptly tacking left, sweeping his spear laterally - the first stabbing attack bowls over two men, and the sweep overturns over four. Mecisteus – better known as a boxer than as a warrior, simply charges a cluster of your men with his spear held before his chest in both hands – he bashes another two men to the earth.
>cont
