Having left the public far behind and grown thrillingly close to the scene place where they would do battle, the Wards drew to a halt.  Sonar, having stood straight up, came up a few inches short compared to several of his comrades, but the leaderlike imperiousness that filled him bid the others listen and listen well.  The strategic atmosphere of commanders arrayed around a map in the war tent settled over the group, and the Margrave could not help but to don an assured grin that outmatched even his leader's.  Putting his arms up behind his head with his elbows pointing upward, in the manner of someone reclining on a grassy knoll, the Margrave absorbed the plan of attack.  He did not quaver in the slightest when Sonar delivered his orders.  When he received from his leader a pointed look, Margrave took it to mean to pay special attention to his final ordinance: to protect Messiah from harm.  A smirk took over his features.  [color=8F9779]”Child's play.  My ally need know no fear.”[/color]

The instant Martyr opened his mouth, the Margrave got that sinking feeling once again—that he would find no camaraderie in the coming few moments.  Following in the footsteps of so many before him, the blithering ignoramus completely misunderstood the Margrave's power, and, adding to his list of unforgivable offenses, slapped the label of uselessness on every single one of the Striker's previous endeavors.  As much as he knew how little the Wards' leader would like it, this insult could not go unchallenged.  [color=8F9779]”It must be liberating to be you; unbound by the burden of memory.”[/color]  Luckily, Epsilon was on hand to remind Martyr of the Margrave's capabilities, though he scowled to hear the words [i]can't even[/i] issue from her lips.  Nevermind...he'd show them.  He'd show them all.  Rounding on Sonar, he advised, [color=8F9779]”Even now the criminal scum is at work.  For the sake of duty, we should not delay.”[/color]

So, guard duty at one end of the tunnel.  If things went south, a majority if not the entirety of the enemy force could attack at once.  Already the Margrave's mind raced to think of countermeasures, and like a hungry kid wanting to get fruit from a tree given a stick, he had just the thing.  Another one of his pockets held exactly what he needed to deter a headlong charge and mire the opposition long enough to chew them up and spit them out.  Why even bother with Messiah when the Margrave could serve as both offense and defense at the same time?  He longed to know.  Alas, the mystery of his hyper-competence would not be solved this day.