[color=f26522][center][center][h2]Turzo "Wrath" Drunoda[/h2][/center][/center][/color]


The hangar was busy, as busy s it gets when your about to hot drop into a combat zone. People scurried about completing tasks and making sure vehicles and super soldiers alike were stocked with ammo and supplies. You could see the panic in the faces of the new bloods and the stalwart determination of the veterans. The air was thick with the smell of oil, sweat, and the ever-looming smell of exhaust from the vehicles warming up. Flashing red and yellow lights and communicators calling everyone to general quarters. The distant rumble of battle slowly filling into the hull as the giant flying battle form shifted in the sky towards their objective.

Leaning against the southern wall near the crew quarters stood a man dressed in a thick coat with a deep hood that hid his face but not the subtle yellow and orange glow from what lingered underneath. A marine stood next to him obviously tasked with escorting the person around the ship. The sounds of beating tribal drums sounded loud in his communicator while he was working on his breathing. A form of meditation that he practiced before a battle to both gather the ambient mana from around him and prepare him for what is to come next.

A hand on his shoulder broke him from this, the marine tasked to escort him around the ship motioned towards the formation of soldiers in the middle of the hangar then left the man’s side to return to his duties. He had been with this nation for the last 6 months but still required him to travel with an escort when ever he was out of combat. It was part of the deal that allowed him to participate in the war otherwise he doubted the higher ranks would allow him to be even near the military in any sense thinking him to be a spy.

Wrath pushed the jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, turning off his music and began to step forward towards the formation. Yellow and orange light flowed off him, even though he was of rather average height and build among the super soldiers and Knights. Turzo walked with the determination and grace of nobility. Each step was taken as if he was a giant among insects and the looks he gave the others around him said as much.

Other than the dampeners and shield generator he did not have much to cover the glowing tattoos and the shining emblem of his glorious Vaimese Empire boldly etched into his back. He wore what looked to be some sort of armored kilt that held his mirage field generators. His feet covered in a heavy armored combat boot. The eyes that glared at him as he walked past did not seem to phase the man at all, not even the nickname glowstick seemed to pull him from his bearing as a member of nobility.

Taking his place at the front of the formation for battle mages he let his eyes wander. He could see the hate of the others that looked at him as he was the basic embodiment of everything they were fighting against, a few here he did recognize at least. The knight commander who was his handler the first few months he was here and even now Turzo can only deploy wherever that man is. A noble gentleman who has been the only person he has met so far to garner the Mage’s respect in any way. Some of the super soldiers looked familiar but he hadn’t really talked with anyone here yet as that wasn’t his plan to gain allies on this side.

The mage that took her place next to him was a bit different and didn’t seem to get in his way too often, but it also didn’t seem like she held the same malice the others held for him. But that malice was good, it gave these people drive, that drive is what they needed right now. 

As it stood the air was obviously tense normally it would be the captain or one of the honorable knights to speak up and say something. He found that whenever he did it was always with mixed results. He didn’t have too but the better the others fight the easier it is for him to clear out the battlefield.

“[color=f26522]Soldiers of Belisio! Never was so much owed by so many to so few. Here you are legends, here you stand among them as brothers and sisters![/color]” 

As a noble it was his duty to say at least something if he were home. Of course, then it would have been to the other mages and not the slaves. As the mages are the nobility that send the slaves to slaughter in a war of attrition. 

Waves of heat distortion began to pour off him while his shields flared keeping most of the heat, he was producing within them. “[color=f26522]Stand firm in the face of this storm as your names are etched into history on this day! Legends never die When your nation is calling you! Specters! Knights! Soldier’s! Mages! Men and women of the Great nation of Belisio! Stand tall and fight for your nation, your people! Together we will push the enemy back! Together we will win this day for Belisio![/color]”

He wasn’t expecting anything from them morale is a fickle beast one that can make or break a battle or a war. All he could hope was that it might have helped someone. Turzo stepped back into his formation and stopped radiating heat.