A madness that ought not to have been allowed to be. Years of scheming, corruption, and unpredictability.
One by one, those ladders landed. More men rose to the top, unwilling to back down. They were punctured by Stormfront spears, almost bullied, but for all the damage that they did, it was the Stormfront men that went back.
Oliver watched, enraptured, trying to understand the strangeness of flow that had led to the position that they were in. He desperately searched for some sort of principle that he could employ in his own battlings, so that he might stand on the same stage as these mighty men, but he saw only chaos. He didn't understand a lick of it. He didn't understand why those men still stood, despite his own experience with Command. Nor did he understand why the Stormfront men didn't rally, or why General Rainwater didn't counter with an order of his own.
That General remained passive, watching, a hand on his beard. It was as if he was as much of an observer as Oliver was. He didn't seem likely to do anything.