[center][h3][color=993333]István Shilage[/color][/h3][/center]

[@VitaVitaAR][@Conscripts][@AzureKnight]

[color=993333]"Generous."[/color] he noted, smile unwavering as the elven ranger took a moment to size him and his up. They'd interacted little directly, this being their first true exchange of words (beyond passing pleasantries, when provided). Whatever he found was evidently unobjectionable, as his agreement came swift enough. All he would need to work with, Valmyra's answer notwithstanding. [color=993333]"I would have believed you to want more room to work. Ten it shall be."[/color]

With an assured nod, he left them to their preparations, and returned to his own.

Once decided, positions were swiftly filled by the assembled forces beneath the Lions' banner, Istvan dividing his raiders as previously discussed. The majority of his contingent had nestled themselves behind him in the brush within the northerly edge of the ambush team, instructed to follow his charge and otherwise given the go-ahead to cut loose upon any effigies and cultists they could pick off. Rough men and woman each, they had nonetheless been trained quite ruthlessly by the scion of the nascent Shilage— and thus kept their rowdiness at camp under tight lock and key, knowing full well the depths of reprisal he could loose upon them.

He let [i]Meteor[/i]'s chain begin to unravel off his forearm, and stood his vigil coolly, scanning the field ahead.

This was not to say some light murmuring and exchange hadn't escaped them, one brave soul even drawing up alongside him for a spell to glean his take on the stratagem he was working within, its ideas of deeper subterfuge and feinting— only to be waved away in short order with his classic rejoinder:

[color=993333]"We want to understand the enemy."[/color]

Taking their measure with this initial bait and switch would inform the larger scale to come— how to best tie the rope around their necks.