The 16th Legion crawled slowly from the dense tree line east of Castle Rivergate. First, in huddled and disorganised masses, came the archers of the 11th Auxiliary Legion. These conscripts were inferior to their professional counterparts, mostly being made up of men too old to serve in the real legions, and women. For an Imperial woman seeking advancement in His Majesty's military, the auxiliaries of the frontiers were often the only way of showing their potential. Whilst not barred from conventional enlistment, the strenuous training routine designed to harden men in the Legions, was often too much physically for the finer sex to overcome. When a woman did pass the drill masters' tests, one could expect her to become a Captain within three years, having showed inhuman resourcefulness and strength just to get her foot in the door. For the rest, however, commendations from serving with the irregulars was the only other route. 

Scattered around the 11th Auxiliary Legion, dozens of Centurions from the 16th were barking its soldiers into loose formations. Children, no older than eight winters, came forwards on the back of carts laden with arrows, and distributed the projectiles at various points across the assembling army. State-issued short swords, no more than two feet in length, were also plied to the auxiliaries - whom more often than not, couldn't afford their own personal weaponry. Whilst they wouldn't be expected to stand in battle against a determined foe such as the savagefolk of the north, it always helped to be prepared. 

Behind the widening clump of archers, came the almost beautiful squares of the 16th's legionnaires. Each man wore silver chain rings overlapping blackened boiled leather. Their tower shields, almost as large as a man, gleamed with polish, and the short swords in their hands glimmered in the afternoon sun. At the head of each square, easily recognisable by their crimson plumbed helm, was a Centurion. Centurions were elite warriors, veterans of battle bred for leadership, and each one a loyal servant of the Emperor to no matter what end. 

The 16th came to a shuddering halt fifty yards behind the auxilleries. As Lord Grimhelm rode between the rigid formations, he heard gasps of dispair, and not just from the auxilleries. Looking forwards, he understood why.

Castle Rivergate burned a green glow, and around her, an almost endless horde of black shapes stirred. The sound of battle was thick in the air, and the ageing Consul of the Empire knew that Lord Polvark still held the keep. He hadn't come too late, he [i]could[/i] make a difference. 

"The world's greatest warriors are gathered here, I am sure," mumbled Antonius, riding up behind the Consul. 

Erich raised an eyebrow at him, "these savages? Greatest warriors?"

"Not they Consul. There is one who leads them, a giant of a man, pulsing with energy not meant for the hands of mortals," replied Antonius, suddenly stern with trepidation.

"I killed a giant once, when I was a bit younger than you," chuckled Erich, much to the Magnus' dismay, "got under his skirt, stabbed him right in the balls. When he stumbled, I climbed atop his knee and rammed it through his eye. I do not fear large beings." 

"Rinack, the Emperor's Bane-"

"I killed a warlock once. He threw a fireball at me, and I my shield at him. Seared the flesh on my chest, and both arms - damn hurt, let me tell you. My shield caught him in the neck, pushed his windpipe out the other side. Of this, I do not joke," interjected Erich with a sly smile. 

Antonius, Imperial Wizard, sighed at the Consul's confidence. A gesture quickly picked up by the wily general. 

"Relax, Magnus, I know what dangers we face here today," said Erich. There was no humour this time. "If we fail in putting down this incursion, and destroying these fell-creations, then the Empire will fall. Make no mistake, if the savages are able to gain momentum, then the dwindling strength of our peoples will be unable to repulse them. This ends here, and today."

"I cannot defeat the giant warrior, nor Rinack. His power is beyond me, beyond any of those serving the Emperor," said Antonius, growing increasingly anxious. 

"Then do not fight him; do what you always do, what you are [i]supposed[/i] to do, and protect my men from his machinations," Erich grunted. He was becoming frustrated by the Magnus' fear of the enemy, and the man's lack of confidence. 

Not wanting to allow Antonius' words to deter him, Lord Grimhelm urged his destrier forwards at a steady gallop until he was at the head of the auxilleries. In his lightweight, elaborate ceremonial parade armour, he truely looked every quality of some great king long forgotten. Drawing his sword, and pointing it at the sky, he spoke to his army in an attempt to stifle the seeds of cowardice. 

"Soldiers! Soldiers! Soldiers of the Emperor! Stand, stand and be counted!" He yelled, his ancient voice becoming hoarse almost instantly. The Centurions closest to him, repeated his words down the line, until several reverberations were shooting through the ranks. "Today the savage men of the north, dirty in their ways, dishonourable in war, have fallen upon the Empire in its time of greatest weakness! Shall we surrender? Shall we present them with our wives and daughters? Shall we jar a dagger into the eyes' of our sleeping sons?" 

"NO! HARAH!" 

"Well, why don't we just down our weapons, pull down our britches and let 'em fuck us?" 

"HARAH!" 

"No? Well, it was just a suggestion. So the only thing we can really do, from this point on, is march forwards and FUCK THEM INSTEAD!" Erich broke into a coughing fit; his old lungs straining to rise to the challenge of conveying such a tenacious speech. No one laughed, or were disheartened by this; he had seen many winters, and had led the Empire to many victories. He would lead them to one more, they were all certain. 

Retiring to the rear of the army, and deafened by the thundering applause of his men as they beat their swords against the wood of their shields, Erich nodded at his Signal's Master. The man, who was tall but scrawny, held a purple coloured flag high in the sky. Horns sounded all across the 11th Auxiliary Legion, and the mass of archers started a slow walk towards the castle - even as the savages scrambled to meet them.