Laedio watched as the newest addition to the King's army march down the main thoroughfare of the city. Their breastplates, helmets, and greaves caught and threw back the faint, flickering light that the winter sun bothered to offer through the heavy gray clouds.
They were young blood. Newcomers. Fucking green boys whom the King saw fit to throw straight into this southern hell just to get them bloodied and give relief to a terrible situation that had the circumstances to turn even worse.
They were all grinning, exchanging excited whispers in the ranks far away from the ears of their superiors. Laedio could understand the feeling. They had likely spent the last three moons rotting in a capital garrison, enduring the endless drilling of a commander whose only tactical philosophy was that if you wanted to build a proper soldier, first you had to break a boy into pieces.
No doubt these lads were absolutely starving for a piece of the action.
