The guide ushered the two into the stone structure at the center, the rain beginning the thicken and a light breeze whipped by them. The legionnaires ignored the rain, and only gave cursory glances to Beren, though a few eyed Emmaline with some interest. 

For his part, Beren felt right at home here. Despite the fact he lived quite a loose life out at the very edge of civilization, he was used to ordered drill and mighty earthworks by the dwarves. This was just a younger race playing at what the ancients had already perfected, though they did it with the tenacity of men and the skill of many years of practice. He had a small urge to volunteer to help, but he knew if he asked he would by flat out refused or they would induct him into their ranks and he hadn't the time. 

"This is but the first of many," the guide said proudly, noticing Beren studying the battlements and fortifications erected. "Soon we'll make a wall along the Black Delta, once the emperor buys out the confederation. We will upturn the fores-" 

Beren almost burst out laughing, but he kept himself from interrupting the haughty guide as the man continued to present their future campaigns, eager to tell someone not of the army. Emmaline looked at him curiously, and he blinked, impressed she had noticed his change in demeanor. He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "I'll tell you later."

Before he pulled away, she grabbed his jerkin and kissed his cheek. "You look good just out of the rain." She whispered. His face flushed, but before he could be awkward, both they and the monologuing guide were interrupted by a huge crash, and a shake of the trees beyond the palisade wall. As soon, the protostates turned or looked up from their tasks, and the only sound that followed was the pouring rain. 

"What was that?" Emmaline asked, placing her hand on her hips and wanting to appear as if she had the authority to demand an answer. As far as Beren was concerned, she was noble born and it was only natural. 

"I don't know," Beren and the guide said as one. Idly, Beren wondered if they had named the fort Serpentus because of a local beast. He dearly hoped a Bagrada serpent was not near. 

They caught sight of one of the hundreds of trees in the distance going down, pulled by something immensely strong. 

"Stations!" A scarred centurion cried, placing his feathered helm atop his head and roaring for his men to move. Spears and shields were dolled out and hastily grabbed, as yet another tree was destroyed beyond the wall. 

This one was far closer.