The silence that fell over the plaza was heavier than any scream. The last of Ragnar's vanquished army vanished over the hill, leaving behind a field of their dead and wounded. Nox's own fledgling army, the collection of players who had sworn him fealty out of fear, just stared from behind their makeshift barricades. Their terror hadn't vanished, but now it was mixed with something else, something potent: awe.
Elisa stomped back into the plaza, her warhammer dripping with gore, a savage grin plastered on her face. "Now that was a proper fight! Those northern boys hit hard, but they break easy." She looked around at the carnage. "So, do we chase them down? Finish them off?"
"No," Nox said, his voice quiet but carrying across the silent plaza. "Let them run. Let them spread the word." He turned to face his followers. "Let them tell everyone what happens when you challenge the authority of Portentia."
