He hated it again. When he found himself standing still for far too long, he hated himself all the more. Who was he to dare to stand there like that, as if what he faced was naught at all?
He watched one of those boulders of men begin to crumble. He'd predicted with his eyes that they could last for a while, but the reality quickly dealt out a crueller hand. Tavar's strategy found cracks that Oliver could not perceive logically, and the end was set about more quickly than he could imagine.
Then there was Germanicus, already at the top of the eastern wall now, throwing his warhammer around with that disgusting ease of strength that he seemed to have been born with.
By standing still, Oliver had only allowed the situation to worsen. Gar and the Minister of Blades fought on without him, but surely they weren't exactly feeling optimistic when they saw their General standing frozen in place like that.
