Dusk was falling as the makeshift armored column emerged from the palace. By now word of the Vuldrock had spread and the people, understandably fearful had hidden themselves away, leaving the streets deserted save for litter that swirled in the wind. If the palace guard shouted or cursed the sound was lost in the overwhelming roar of engines. Annika could sense people watching them from behind windows and concealment, and felt the slight surge of hope that accompanied the underlying current of fear. Atop one of the tracked vehicles beside Orion a soldier emerged from a turret and, after a moment of fiddling unfurled a banner, that spread into the blue and white Hawkwood colors as the wind began to whip it. Almost immediately shouts and cheers began to rise, first from the soldiers and then spreading to the city itself. Windows were thrown open and blue and white fabric began to appear more and more frequently. Annika could well imagine the Duke and his advisors were furious but there seemed little they could do now.

"Blessed Pancreator," she whispered to herself, "he who made the universe with his own hand, watch over your servant Orion Pentecost this night."

A column of infantry many of them only half dressed and half equiped burst from a side street, falling in alongside the armored column. Annika was no expert but she saw few officers among them, the leaders for the most part being grizzled looking NCOs. She wondered if they had come against orders or just in the absence of them and began to worry that they might be charged with inciting a general mutiny. One of the sergeants, a battered looking man with a hideous scar disfiguring his face, loped over to the hovercraft and leaped onto the skirts and up into the fighting compartment with an enviable grace that his size didn't lead one to expect.

"Sir," he said without preamble, ignoring Annika upon whom he had nearly trod.

"We have reports of the pagans massing at the edge of the woods, what are your orders?"