@indomitableicequeen - continued from here
It was supposed to be a friendly meeting between the troops from the North and East. Roy brought his usual team with him under that assumption, but still advised them to be prepared. The Pact of Non-Aggression with Drachma was flimsy at best, and like hell he’d let Major General Armstrong see him at anything less than his best should the unexpected occur.
He tempted fate with such thinking. Drachma saw the opportunity to strike, and took it. Gloves on, and extra sets available in his pockets, Roy was prepared for combat. The battlefield quickly descended into chaos, his team working quickly to coordinate with Briggs forces to counter. Perfect attack and perfect defense working together--Drachma would soon realize their mistake.
Perhaps that’s what prompted the shot meant for General Armstrong. Quick on his feet, Roy didn’t think twice about pushing her out of the way. She could yell at him for it later--maybe after he dealt with the deep cut to his arm. Face in the snow, and holding back the urge to yell out in pain, Roy put one hand on his new wound to apply pressure. He had his other glove.
And General Armstrong still had her sword. That Drachman soldier had no chance to consider the foolishness of his actions, his arm cut clean off before she sent him crashing into the snow. Good. Roy took the few seconds to gather his strength, and push himself to stand. Yes, the cut hurt like hell, and he knew his movement would be slower as a result.
But, now he was pissed.
“Yes sir,” he said, tone firm as he met her gaze, “What are your orders?”











