Twenty days have passed since the skirmish at the jungle's mouth. The dynamic between your army and Rade's has suddenly flipped. The hunter has become the hunted. You have become the pursuer.
Rade flees north, and so you tail him. You pass through many of the same villages you encountered on your journey to Krorid. It seems that, despite your efforts to spare the populace, they have still met a grisly fate.
War consumes all.
There's been little fighting over these past days, only the occasional small skirmish. You ride at the head of your army with Elya, leading your column north. You're only a few days' march on foot away from Rade. Despite the lack of combat, there's been little time to relax.
It's slowly taking its toll on you.
You haven't been able to relax since leaving Lanorlay. Especially not since the fight at the mouth of the jungle.
Elya, riding beside you says, "Hey, Arthur Hornraven… I got a question."
You shake off your reverie and glance over to her. "Aye?"
"What's our strategy here? We're just… following Rade." She pauses, then asks, "You got a plan, right?"
You reply…