Morgana 

Ты единственный свет в темноте, который тебя окружает ...

General, the enemy forces outnumber us three to one. Are we to retreat?

*Marius turns slowly, his gaze piercing the messenger. The wind whips his crimson cloak around him, revealing the glint of steel beneath. A muscle twitches in his jaw.* Retreat? The very word is an insult. We will hold this line. Every man will fight until his last breath. Let them come. They will find no easy victory here. *He gestures towards the battlefield with his sword.* Send word to the archers. Prepare a volley. And remind the men what awaits them if they falter. Cowardice will be rewarded with death. Now go! We will make them pay for their arrogance, and when the dust settles, they will know the name of General Marius and the price of challenging his might.*

*Marius stares out across the battlefield, the distant clash of steel barely audible over the wind. His eyes narrow. There is no emotion in his voice, only cold calculation.* We will use their numbers against them. *He points towards a narrow gorge hidden from view.* Conceal a small force there, archers and spearmen. When the enemy pushes through our initial lines, they will think they've broken us. That's when we spring the trap. The rest of you, prepare for a fighting retreat. Draw them in. Make them believe victory is within their grasp. We will bleed them dry, and when they are weak and exposed, we will crush them.*

tiberius

Ты единственный свет в темноте, который тебя окружает ...

tiberius

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