>Mostly unanimous note on advancing to the rear. Force Dispositions being adjusted, but you may council on how to proceed.--
>>6003572>>6003574It does for all of us. Some say Sarethian Cruneiform, the language of Sareth old, Sareth Far, is the hardest language in the world to speak with the tongue of man and the mind of mortals.
They are wrong. No Legion officer has ever successfully filled out a C-33 Request For Request form properly, so Pyther stands triumphant in the worst contest in existence.
--
While the formations reform, our wounded are tended, our intelligence considered, Fireskellian sleeps.
Allows herself all of four hours. At which point her retinue drags her blearily to her feet, she drowns the dryness with some more water, and starts arranging tokens on a map once again. Maximus brings in a few extra crates, for chairs, and by pooling Korsas scouting with Echo and Sacerdotessas interogation and processing of the final officers, gradually, the fog of war lifts by inches.
--
We know now the enemy is out there.
We know they intend to destroy any large, cohesive Legion formations they spot in the field.
We know, therefore, axiomatically, that shall we make it clear we are present, then, sure as the Dawn, they will come for us.
There is a certain pleasing finality in the simple assurance that rough riders with sharp knives will do their utmost to kill you where you stand. Focuses the mind.
Their furious intention to harass patrols can work in our favor. First, Fireskellian, the scattered remnants of her command, and the prisoners-victims we have rescued, they can break by the South-West road towards Howlhammer and the waystation in Sheepwoe. There, though the fortifications are scant, and the garrison small, they can securely sequester themselves for now.
Meanwhile, we know the enemy roams primarily north of the Westtear deluge because Saevus Scavengers report that their campsite - marked as [A] on this map - was near were they found a destroyed Legion patrol, with the corpses fresh and the men mangled. The Sparkhooves must therefore have been running interference to prevent assistance to Windchime Pass.
We can expect at least ten squadrons of cavalry, a force of nigh a thousand and some riders, though the numbers may be more than that. The missives, notes and plans we have managed to amass from the few bits the Sparksworn haven't destroyed or burnt indicate this, and besides, any force lesser would have been unable to perpretrate enough destruction.
But we should not despair, because their mission serves our purpose: They *cannot* all be in one place, for they have neither the supplies nor the need.
If we pick our course wisely, we will engage them in detail, destroying smaller bands, as the others report our presence, drawing yet others into our wake, and finally drawing them to a battle-ground of our choosing where we should have time to prepare the grounds.
The question then seems obvious:
Where? How?
--
