"Hey!" the morlock war leader shouted. "You should be following! You are too far off to the right."
I pointed at what, to us, was clearly Tainted. "The ground is wrong. Gone to rot. Sour." <1>
He shook his head, and with much chagrin, got his soldiers onto land that we the mystically active could abide.
"This is not what was agreed." he complained.
"Because this was not agreed." I said. "Magic is dangerous. On sour ground, it is worse."
"A meal before battle increases morale." he replied.
Well, the state of equipment clearly wasn't going to fill that role. It wasn't scraps, but most of his "warriors" wore only patches of armor. Mail was fitted loosely, flapping and chinking as they moved. Most of the spears had incomplete hafts, shortening their range considerably. <2>
Tried to make She Who Speaks lumbering, yet fast. Not sure I quite reached that, and also not certain that I should have left the focus on Rhishi, when there was so much going on that he wasn't able to keep track of.
But... the first part of the battle is done. There are many things about this that I'd told myself I was going to give more detail to. The fact that it felt like motherly warmth to be absorbed, rather than the description I went with.
But. I refuse to let this become a story where mounds of description clog up a battle. Thank you for hanging with me through a chapter that is little more than two "combat rounds".
As always, thank you most for your continued readership. It means more to me than I can put into words.