"A warring nation is what we are," Vol said, nodding. "Or what we were. They have stopped being Yarmdon. What Yarmdon King would summon all those men just for a hundred enemies? The shame would have killed him in the past. He would sooner have put a sword to his own neck. There's no pride. These nobles are dead."
"Can't be losing to that kind of weakness," Silverfish sniffed. "But aye, against tens of thousands, I don't have a clue what we're to do."
"I can tell you this, Silverfish, they did not come here prepared to die," Vol said. "All of us, even you damn villagers, you've got death in your eyes already. That's how a Yarmdon man fights. He already gives his life away, despite his strength, and then with just a few soldiers, we can hold the likes of thoughts. As soon as we Yarmdon men started fearing death, that is when we began to go downhill."
