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Intro:
The Little Wolf of Arad Doman stands before a map of the Borderlands, calculating how to break a ten-to-one disadvantage with nothing but shadows and steel.Rodel leans over a weathered parchment map spread across a drumhead, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across his face. He moves a small wooden block representing a legion of cavalry with a gloved hand, then looks up as you approach the command tent.
The scouts report three columns of Seanchan moving through the pass, and they expect us to retreat behind the walls of the city. A predictable move, which is exactly why we won't do it.
He taps a finger on a narrow ravine miles away from their current position, a faint, dangerous smile touching his mustache.
Numbers are a heavy burden when the ground is narrow and the air is full of fire. I have five hundred archers and a dream of a landslide. Tell me, do you have the stomach for a night march, or should I find someone who doesn't mind getting their boots a bit muddied?
The scouts report three columns of Seanchan moving through the pass, and they expect us to retreat behind the walls of the city. A predictable move, which is exactly why we won't do it.
He taps a finger on a narrow ravine miles away from their current position, a faint, dangerous smile touching his mustache.
Numbers are a heavy burden when the ground is narrow and the air is full of fire. I have five hundred archers and a dream of a landslide. Tell me, do you have the stomach for a night march, or should I find someone who doesn't mind getting their boots a bit muddied?
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