Verossa narrows her eyes. "You look familiar, were you at Greywater Rush? Barnflead? Well, anyway. We have an open order to head west with all speed when the lines are broken, take to the forest, and use our initiative from there."

She dismounts, and moves towards the map. "Excuse us for looking like popinjays or fops. We don't dress for your satisfaction. And after the Barnflaed retreat, where I and all were reduced to wearing slashed rags and eating our fallen comrades, it pleases me to look as good as I can. I wear what I own, and I own what I wear. And my companions are the same."

"Are you not confident of being able to force a gap? Our orders suggested otherwise. And you seem to have left your left flank open to the Bugbears and Hobbos in the southernmost camp. Presumably, there's something I don't know. Care to fill me in?"