Spread 002 - prose snippet
This totally just popped into my head as I looked at the cards and since I dealt them, I've been getting bits and pieces of this world in my brain. So, uh, just a snippet. But damn if this wasn't effective:
"Get away from the bloody window, Leland," Erizabet growled from her position over the maps and charts that were strew over the table. "After all, it's not as if you can see the damnable things. Thank the sodden earth for that at least."
Leland, Bowmaster and Knight of the Sprouted Staff, turned from the window as she'd asked with a sour look on his face.
"Perhaps I was just looking at the sunset, 'Betta. No need to cast your crabbiness on me."
She gave him a frown for that, keeping her eye on the line between the Lower Slopes, the country's breadbasket, and position of her Bladehouse where even now her sisters prepared for the menace approaching. According to the latest information, Clubmen would be there within the week, but the Sisten forces might not take so long. If they cut corners and traveled at all at night--
"I wouldn't be crabby if I didn't think we had a problem on our hands. What did Jesuth say?"
"The same thing he said yesterday," Leland answered with a breath out, moving away from the opening now as the temptation to look out again would only irritate her if he should do so and he didn't need her irritated. Foul-mouthed, short-tempered, and difficult as she could be, Erizabet was the finest tactician amongst the leaders of the Four Orders. It wouldn't help any of them if he got her so upset she couldn't think straight.
"He can't get those Shieldmen to move faster?"
Leland tried not to snort, but she was just being difficult now.
"You know Shieldmen."
Erizabet put her fingers to the bridge of her nose and rubbed as hard as she could, but the ache between her eyes would not leave her.
"Yes, I do, but I had hoped--"
"You can't run a campaign on hope, not one against the Sistens."
He'd thought, the second after it came out of his mouth, that she might snap at him. Instead, she let out a brief chuckle. It had the sound of the gallows to it, though.
"Hope is rather necessary at the moment, Leland. We don't have the numbers and we don't have enough time."
"The Empress--"
This chuckle was darker still.
"She's promised and promised, but I haven't seen one mage take the field the whole campaign."
Leland didn't fight her on that. He tried to keep his loyalty to the forefront of his mind, but he'd lost enough men that he couldn't speak to the Empress's defense. Not here, not when they were losing and about to have their most vital territory short of the capital either ruined or stolen from them.
"We're not dead," Erizabet told him quietly, "but we're going to be there soon. If they march through even one night--"
He put his hand to her shoulder and even though she shook it off, he knew she appreciated it.
"I'll get on Jesuth again," Leland said with a nod. "See if he can get the Shieldmen in place. Tell him he'd better march through a night unless he wants to go through the winter on nothing but snow and roast ice."
"Get away from the bloody window, Leland," Erizabet growled from her position over the maps and charts that were strew over the table. "After all, it's not as if you can see the damnable things. Thank the sodden earth for that at least."
Leland, Bowmaster and Knight of the Sprouted Staff, turned from the window as she'd asked with a sour look on his face.
"Perhaps I was just looking at the sunset, 'Betta. No need to cast your crabbiness on me."
She gave him a frown for that, keeping her eye on the line between the Lower Slopes, the country's breadbasket, and position of her Bladehouse where even now her sisters prepared for the menace approaching. According to the latest information, Clubmen would be there within the week, but the Sisten forces might not take so long. If they cut corners and traveled at all at night--
"I wouldn't be crabby if I didn't think we had a problem on our hands. What did Jesuth say?"
"The same thing he said yesterday," Leland answered with a breath out, moving away from the opening now as the temptation to look out again would only irritate her if he should do so and he didn't need her irritated. Foul-mouthed, short-tempered, and difficult as she could be, Erizabet was the finest tactician amongst the leaders of the Four Orders. It wouldn't help any of them if he got her so upset she couldn't think straight.
"He can't get those Shieldmen to move faster?"
Leland tried not to snort, but she was just being difficult now.
"You know Shieldmen."
Erizabet put her fingers to the bridge of her nose and rubbed as hard as she could, but the ache between her eyes would not leave her.
"Yes, I do, but I had hoped--"
"You can't run a campaign on hope, not one against the Sistens."
He'd thought, the second after it came out of his mouth, that she might snap at him. Instead, she let out a brief chuckle. It had the sound of the gallows to it, though.
"Hope is rather necessary at the moment, Leland. We don't have the numbers and we don't have enough time."
"The Empress--"
This chuckle was darker still.
"She's promised and promised, but I haven't seen one mage take the field the whole campaign."
Leland didn't fight her on that. He tried to keep his loyalty to the forefront of his mind, but he'd lost enough men that he couldn't speak to the Empress's defense. Not here, not when they were losing and about to have their most vital territory short of the capital either ruined or stolen from them.
"We're not dead," Erizabet told him quietly, "but we're going to be there soon. If they march through even one night--"
He put his hand to her shoulder and even though she shook it off, he knew she appreciated it.
"I'll get on Jesuth again," Leland said with a nod. "See if he can get the Shieldmen in place. Tell him he'd better march through a night unless he wants to go through the winter on nothing but snow and roast ice."