Ashes Of War [v1.0] Site

Silas knelt in the black mud, his fingers tracing the rusted edge of an old infantry shield half-buried in the frost. He wiped away a layer of grime to reveal the faded crest of the 4th Legion—a roaring lion, now blind and scarred by pits of corrosion.

"Enough to carry the memory," Silas replied, his voice barely louder than the whistling wind. "And that is all we have left." Ashes of War [v1.0]

Bram spit a dark glob of phlegm into the snow. "How many left, Captain?" Silas knelt in the black mud, his fingers

Silas did not look up. He knew the heavy, labored breathing of Bram, his squad’s last surviving shield-bearer. "I know," Silas murmured. "I’m just checking for salvage. Every scrap of iron counts if we are going to make it through the Pass." "And that is all we have left

Silas pulled a heavy leather skin from his belt and uncorked it. Instead of water, it contained a thick, shimmering oil—rendered from the fat of the fallen beasts that now stalked the ruins. He poured a single drop onto the shield's surface.