An iron golem required a controller, but it would continue the fight until its runes faded and the essence was depleted, and if renewed it could fight again. The creatures brought to life by the cultivators required no controller, they were given a life of their own, but the plant would eventually die, to rot and feed other plants. The Veznans called it the cycle of renewal.

"You smell," Layla said, her eyes now open as she sat up.

"Thanks," Miro said with a wry grin.

"You smell like the town, and the sweat of a man. It is important to adjust your scent to your environment."

Layla came over to Miro. Standing, she was only a little taller than he was seated.

"When stalking a deer, a hunter spreads the dung of deer on the skin of his arms and legs. The deer is then tricked by its senses into thinking the hunter is another deer."

Miro was mildly repulsed, but he could see the logic.

"We're not fighting deer though," Layla said. "We're fighting men."

Layla leaned forward, and Miro wondered what she was doing before he felt something soft and squishy being pushed into the hair on the back of his head. It felt like mud.

"We're fighting men," she repeated.

Miro's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth. Her expression was serious, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Surely it was just mud?

"The enemy approaches," a voice called softly.

Miro looked out over the narrow river, but could see nothing. He turned back to Layla, but she was gone, vanished into the undergrowth. Quickly clawing his fingers through his hair, Miro did his best to imitate the Dunfolk. At least his armoursilk was green.

Miro felt his fear rise as he waited. Just as he was starting to wonder if the enemy were approaching after all, he saw the flicker of black against the trees on the other side of the river. A single man stepped out, a tattooed legionnaire clad in the scaled armour common among his kind.

A second legionnaire emerged from the undergrowth and conferred with the first. The first legionnaire then plunged a long stick into the water and, seeing it wasn't too deep, said something to his fellow.

Miro wondered if this was going to be a repeat of the battle he had fought just the night before — hand-to-hand combat made clumsy and sluggish by the dragging water.

The first legionnaire jumped into the water, and was soon followed by the second. A third soldier in black came out of the undergrowth, and then more were appearing from all directions, taking quick stock before jumping down into the shallow river.