Bard had already caught sight of Limon's approach. As Limon drew nearer, Bard let out a rueful smile and sank into the chair behind the table, his voice tinged with fatigue. "Forgive me, Mr. Limon. Even at this crucial moment, I find myself torn. Perhaps I ought not to be."
Limon could well understand Bard's quandary. After all, such a situation was unprecedented. There had been prior undead disturbances in the northern hills, but they were minor and easily managed by a slight increase in the purging force. This time, however, was an entirely different matter. The current undead unrest was far beyond the capabilities of the local garrison.
From within his helm, Limon spoke in a composed tone, "Your hesitation is warranted. Issuing a full evacuation order would mean relinquishing the entire northern hills. I presume you lack the authority to do so. You're biding your time for orders from higher command."
