| Text | - Eutimio bows swiftly. "My [lord/lady], they're marching. An army of thousands. Goldfoot, Chernoff, some smaller families. They'll be here by mid-day."
- "How do you recommend we respond?"
- "Is Lady Chernoff with the army?
- "Who is leading the army?"
- "I trust your own generalship will be more... creative."
- "Ser Dietyr Goldfoot," Eutimio answers. "He's a competent general by all accounts, but no genius. He'll assault the gates, maybe try a pincer."
- "Target Lady Chernoff. Without her, House Goldfoot gains nothing from this attack."
- Eutimio considers. "Don't let them near your lands, my [lord/lady]. Some smallfolk may be swayed by the Chernoff claim. We should bring the fight to them."
- "She's not fighting." Eutimio looks disappointed. "But she's riding at the back. White horse. Gold barding. Like a queen."
- "Lead the troops out immediately. We will not wait to be attacked."
|
