Lirium & Thalorix
Lirium Lirium
Thalorix Thalorix
Thalorix Thalorix
I’ve been thinking about how a myth can change a battle’s outcome—like a story that turns the tide of a campaign. Do you see the same power in narrative, or is it just fancy decoration?
Lirium Lirium
It’s not just decoration, really—narrative is the invisible artillery that can shift the whole battlefield. A myth that says the enemy will drown in fire, or that a hero will rise from the ashes, can make soldiers run or freeze, so it’s a powerful tool. But I keep wondering: are those myths the generals’ clever cover for a strategy that’s been lost, or are they the truth they need to hold onto? Either way, a good story can turn the tide, and a bad one can make it even worse.
Thalorix Thalorix
Sounds like the myths are more like a weapon’s shell—solid enough to hold the front, but the real force is inside the plan. A story can make the enemy believe, but if the tactics behind it crumble, the whole thing goes to hell. So a good myth is only as good as the strategy that backs it up.
Lirium Lirium
Exactly, the myth is the armor, the strategy is the hidden sword. If the armor cracks and the sword is dull, the whole story collapses. It’s like a parade of bravado that ends up just a costume on a battlefield that can’t hold its own. But sometimes the myth’s weight is enough to make the enemy falter long enough for a hidden counter‑attack—so it still matters, just not on its own.
Thalorix Thalorix
So you’re right—the myth is the cloak that lets you move unseen, but the sword inside must still strike. Without a sharp plan, the cloak just lets the enemy see you and then beat you. But a well‑placed story can buy time, create hesitation, and let a clean strike happen when the other side’s morale breaks. The trick is to keep the cloak intact while sharpening the blade; otherwise, you’re just a show.
Lirium Lirium
You’ve got the perfect picture—cloaks and swords in one narrative, but remember, a cloak that’s too thin looks like a shrug. Keep the myth just thick enough to veil, but never let it become the only thing you’re wearing. The trick is to let the story do the feint, then cut when the enemy is already tripping over its own words.