"Holy Man," one of the Spectres whispered while clapping a hand on Liffis's shoulder. "You're spacing out again."

Broken out of his reverie, Liffis looked around at the one who touched him and muttered his thanks before turning his attention to the Knight Commander, striding towards the front of the shuttle bay like a lord among lords.

It seemed that no matter the nation, all highborns had the distinct ability to make one feel lesser by simply being in their presence and for a moment, Liffis was a child of the slums again, remembering what it was like to see a noble for the time. Like demigods, they seemed. Inhabitants of another world that would forever be out of reach for those scurrying after the scraps at their feet.

[i]Different time, different life,[/i] Liffis reminded himself as he tried to banish the memory from his thoughts. It did not do to dwell on the past, especially with the weight of old regrets clinging to it. Before he could think about such things however, one of the Battlemages, an extravagantly tattooed man bearing the unmistakeable emblem of the Vaimese Empire upon his back, suddenly broke into speech and when he was done, one of the Knights jeered, "Cool speech! Don’t forget your place traitor!"

"Peace, Kass," Roland responded as he took his place in front of the entire group, standing before one of the shuttles that would deliver them into battle. "It was a stirring speech. Would that it be enough to defeat the enemy."

[i]So this is the final hope of Belisio,[/i] he thought as he surveyed the men and women he would soon be leading into hell. Knights, Battlemages, Spectres, a congregation of all the nation's mightiest champions. Some stood alone like the Legion Witch, Loretta, and the Steel Mage, Isaac. Some stood with their fellows like young Griff of the house of Spaeros, surrounded by his boisterous companions and other notable worthies. One even led his own retinue, a full platoon under the charge of Emmet 'Butcher' Dukes - the prodigal son of the Singh family - who was delivering his own speech at the moment.

[i]That family wields too much power[/i], Roland thought as he remembered his reluctance in granting knighthood to the man, especially given his dubious past. Even so however, only one thing stood out above all other considerations in Roland's mind and it was the shocking realization of just how few they were. Altogether, they must have amounted to little more than a fleck of mist compared to the ocean of fire swelling beneath them, but somehow they were to turn the tide of battle.

Roland took a deep breath as he thought of how it all came to this.

[hr]
[hider=The day before...]

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"I beg your pardon?" Roland said as he addressed the screen displaying the Archmage, a young blonde haired woman garbed in her finery and safely lounging in her seat back home at the capital instead of standing beside the Knight Commander on his way to the front.

"You heard me," she replied whilst stroking the back of her pet familiar, a rare black panther. "Oh, do not glare at me so, sir Knight. I would join you if I could, truly, but the Ministry of Defence have deemed that should we lose the war effort, I'm to remain as the last line of defence. Moreover, between everyone who remains, you have the most experience leading men into battle whereas my only value is in my talents."

[i]And your political influence,[/i] Roland thought with some disdain.

"You're simply the best man for the job, it cannot be helped. You'd make better use out of my mages than I ever could."

"Your predecessor would have joined regardless," Roland replied scornfully. "He would not sit idly by as his students led the charge."

"Is that not precisely why I am the current Archmage and he is no longer alive?"

The Knight Commander only glared balefully in response and to his surprise, the Archmage appeared regretful and continued on apologetically, "Forgive me, I did not mean to be flippant. My teacher was a great and courageous man, but unfortunately I do not share these qualities."

"Clearly."

"And I can only do as I am bid, [i]sir[/i]. As are you, don't forget. The lives of my colleagues are in your hands now."

Roland heaved a sigh as he considered the sheer weight of responsibility suddenly foisted upon him. Nothing had been the same after the Battle of Gein Valley, that disastrous affair which decided the fate of the allied nation of Turokia.

"So be it," he said with a tone of finality. "But I don't have enough time to review their dossiers and individual talents. I can only command them as far as general strategy goes."

"That is more than enough," the Archmage responded as she lifted her hand away from her animal, letting it wander away offscreen. "By the way, are you aware that the Ministry has also approved the use of Spectres in battle? They're being sent your way right now."

[i]Assassins and interrogators,[/i] Roland thought as he replied through gritted teeth, "Yes... I am aware."[/hider]
[hr]
His mind returning to the present, the Knight Commander clasped his hands behind his back as he addressed the assembly, "I won't lie to you all, the situation is grim. We can no longer afford to wait for the enemy to bunch themselves up and take them all out in one fell swoop as we originally hoped. Our left flank is weakening and it won't be long before it collapses entirely. Our best chance now is to rally the line and push back with everything we've got.

But once we've done that however, we must push on even further and not lose a single second of momentum for though the enemy host is vast, they are all controlled by relatively few officers. Mages of course, so strike hard, strike fast and stop for nothing before they can react. With any luck we'll reach their general, cut off the head of the host and cause a rout.

I want Knights to carve a path through the enemy, Battlemages to provide support and Spectres, you will do what you do best. Deliver the killing blow. Essentially, we must simply do what we have been doing all along and that is to kill every single Vai mage we encounter... except for this one here."

Roland pointed at Turzo briefly before continuing, "Now unless anyone has a problem with that, let's mount up and forward unto battle! Strength and honour, my friends!"

"Strength and honour!" some of the Knights echoed as they followed their commander into the shuttle, engines whirring and primed to deploy as the ship's hangar doors slowly opened, revealing a glimpse into the hellscape below.

"O grace of Light, grant us strength to endure the trials to come," Liffis intoned as he embarked on a separate shuttle reserved for the Spectres. "O grace of Light, protect us all."

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