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It had been a risky move, but the attempt at intimidation had backfired on the Southern Cities. Seeing the most powerful, most mechanized portion of the host laid to waste, rather than converging, helping, the other parts of the army had dallied and delayed, expecting victory, even when requests for aid had come, and then when defeat was certain, they cut their losses and fled, at first at a leisurely pace, then in a blind panic for their lives when they belatedly realized that Hell hadn’t decided the battle was over just because the toughest enemies were defeated. Those who kept up the fight were either outmaneuvered and unable to force battle, or were small and disunited enough to defeat in detail.
The result had been such a disaster that the Southern Cities never tried such a bold expansion north ever again, and never would, as the Republic of Mittelsosalia had sprung up and was more powerful than Hell’s cobbled together union had ever been.
Sheer boldness, madness, concentrated at the most vital point. It was like this very sort of match, in a way.
The moment to blink came upon you- and you kept your glare forward. There was no room in this world for an Anya that showed fear now.
Funny. Yuliana, in the small moments you saw her face close enough to tell, didn’t think you’d really go about this the way you were. You wished you’d seen that face better- maybe you did need those glasses after all.
>Roll 4 sets of 1d10. The results will be added- you must either match or beat a total of 10.
