They say Emperor Edelgard is the most charismatic leader this land has ever seen. Perhaps they did do it willingly. We have no idea what it is she's told them about us.
[ Words have power. Nobody believes that more sincerely than Claude -- and while Claude has a gifted tongue and can dance around negotiations and sidle his way through politics like nobody's business, Edelgard is gifted with a different oratory skill than his own. She's powerful, commanding, incredibly persuasive, speaking only as someone who believes so whole-heartedly in her goal that one would think those who follow her see her as having the same divine right that she scoffs at.
He's seen how Fodlani and Almyrans have gone at each other's throats for generations, having heard only bitter tales of cowardice and brutality. What someone like Edelgard could have told her men... he shudders. Or perhaps he's deluding himself. Perhaps he wishes to kill a foe who had a choice in the matter over yet another victim of a pointless war. ]
They've been fighting with these beasts for so long... there's no way they're not aware of the consequences. If they're given a choice in the matter.
[ He inhales sharply from his nose. ]
Focus on the beasts! [ He calls out, suddenly imperious. ] Their hides are too thick to be penetrated by your weapons -- focus only on their haunches until you draw blood!
[ He gazes upon them, waiting for anyone to turn tail and run. He wouldn't blame them. But to his pride, to his horror, his men stay staunchly committed to their efforts. ]
Attack!
[ What comes next happens in a flurry; the beasts are so mindless that they're apt to turn on their own if one of the enemy soldiers find themselves underfoot, with Claude's men all but ignoring the footsoldiers in favour of the beasts. Up at the very front, high above everyone else, is Claude. He darts to and fro, dodging arrows and magic with a deftness he rarely displays, raining arrows upon one of the beasts in a way quite unlike any archery Ethlyn would be used to, focused more on unloosing as many arrows at a time as possible than strictly aiming for accuracy. Even from above, he makes eye contact with Ethlyn in mid-battle, searching her face for answers: how fare you down below?
Claude does his best work from the sky. As does the rest of his wyvern battalion. But... still. Sometimes it feels like cowardice not to be at risk of being snapped at by those massive jaws like the rest of the army. ]
no subject
[ Words have power. Nobody believes that more sincerely than Claude -- and while Claude has a gifted tongue and can dance around negotiations and sidle his way through politics like nobody's business, Edelgard is gifted with a different oratory skill than his own. She's powerful, commanding, incredibly persuasive, speaking only as someone who believes so whole-heartedly in her goal that one would think those who follow her see her as having the same divine right that she scoffs at.
He's seen how Fodlani and Almyrans have gone at each other's throats for generations, having heard only bitter tales of cowardice and brutality. What someone like Edelgard could have told her men... he shudders. Or perhaps he's deluding himself. Perhaps he wishes to kill a foe who had a choice in the matter over yet another victim of a pointless war. ]
They've been fighting with these beasts for so long... there's no way they're not aware of the consequences. If they're given a choice in the matter.
[ He inhales sharply from his nose. ]
Focus on the beasts! [ He calls out, suddenly imperious. ] Their hides are too thick to be penetrated by your weapons -- focus only on their haunches until you draw blood!
[ He gazes upon them, waiting for anyone to turn tail and run. He wouldn't blame them. But to his pride, to his horror, his men stay staunchly committed to their efforts. ]
Attack!
[ What comes next happens in a flurry; the beasts are so mindless that they're apt to turn on their own if one of the enemy soldiers find themselves underfoot, with Claude's men all but ignoring the footsoldiers in favour of the beasts. Up at the very front, high above everyone else, is Claude. He darts to and fro, dodging arrows and magic with a deftness he rarely displays, raining arrows upon one of the beasts in a way quite unlike any archery Ethlyn would be used to, focused more on unloosing as many arrows at a time as possible than strictly aiming for accuracy. Even from above, he makes eye contact with Ethlyn in mid-battle, searching her face for answers: how fare you down below?
Claude does his best work from the sky. As does the rest of his wyvern battalion. But... still. Sometimes it feels like cowardice not to be at risk of being snapped at by those massive jaws like the rest of the army. ]