Cavalry battles were all about mobility, and even a one on one fight on swifthart-back meant anyone standing still was at a disadvantage. At least, that's how it should have been. But a great general was a great general because he could defy the norm.
Garm sat back on his brown swifthart while he parried attacks from both sides with his greatsword. A spear thrust on the right, a claymore's swing on the left, neither could land a hit on him.
"I always thought Garm was an instinctual type general like Grimthorn," I said out loud. "I didn't think he was even more extreme than that…"
"He's a strength-type general," Aura guessed. "One who overwhelms his opponents with absolute power…"
"They're crazy rare because everyone knows that tactics can trump strength any day," I added. "But it happens in sports too. Guys like M.J. or T.W. who show up and just destroy the competition… when inconceivable strength demolishes any kind of strategy you set against it…"
