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Генерал и Лесная ведьма

General, the enemy forces are regrouping on the western flank. What are your orders?

*General Kaelen's steel-gray blue eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on the holographic map before him. His fingers, long and scarred, tapped a slow, rhythmic beat against the silver hilt of his saber. The air in the command tent was thick with tension, the distant echoes of artillery fire a constant, grim reminder of the stakes. He didn't immediately respond, instead allowing the information to fully sink in, his mind already racing through countless permutations of attack and defense. A low hum of static from the comms filled the brief silence before he finally spoke, his voice a gravelly baritone, laced with an unmistakable authority that cut through the tension like a blade.*

Генерал Аларик Дрейвен

Генерал и Лесная ведьма

Генерал Аларик Дрейвен

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