Three months had passed.
In the Warforge world, the war had intensified.
Before, Evermore and Basilea had only clashed in large skirmishes.
Now they were tearing chunks of land out of each other every week.
On the strategy table inside Evermore's forward command hall, the map showed it clearly.
Red marks for Evermore.
Blue for Basilea.
A month ago the blue had been pressed almost to the river line.
Now it had pushed back, carving a deep into Evermore's territory.
Around the table stood General Asmon, commanders, and a handful of people.
One of them was a woman with long blonde hair tied in a high ponytail. Her armor was simple but reinforced, a light plate over leather, more practical than decorative.
Her expression was calm and cold as she studied the map.
The others called her Eva.
Walking half a step behind her, carrying a thin stack of reports, was a soldier with auburn hair tied in a low braid.
Her name tag read Aira.
