This is for adding a Search Category to the thread.
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Marcus nods to his King.
"As long as there's enough for us lot..."
After concentrating on that part of himself that is strong and durable, the Metalflesh's Mantle intensifies for a moment as he calls upon his Eternal connection with his Season, making him stronger.
"...right? To the victors go the spoils."
Glamour Time
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Prep. +1 str = 4, +1 arm(lasts the rest of the day)
"Just don't get too spoiled." Summer's strength came at Rust's call, the metal from a nearby repair forge became his closest Armor. "You guys ready?"
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"I am zure there will be more than enough drink for all," Etalon says, striding by them. He looks excited, passionate, hooves constantly moving. He looks down the line and sighs. Behind them, an awakened tree element cranks back a hefty catapult before loading it with a large rock. He turns his attention back to the three Summers.
"This will not be eazy. When the enemy are in zight, I want you to charge ztraight down the middle, zplit them in half. I will lead the cavalry along your flankz as a zhield to ztrike from two anglez. Hopefully, by that time, Tickle would have put that monztocity in place," he finishes, glancing up at the Zeppelin still docked at the fortress.
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"Divide and conquer... Right."
Hearing the role he was about to play in the coming battle, Marcus calls upon his Elemental blessing, pulling the strength of the physical world into his flesh and bone. Then, as he strokes the blade of his Hedge Ax, the engraved thorns on the Metal seem to grow, engulfing his arm, then quickly winding about his entire body. Soon, Marcus is covered in metal vines with razorsharp spines. The steel briars seem to twitch toward anything that moves toward him. He is ready for battle.
Can't Touch This
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"What do I do? I'm fast, and I'm strong, but I'm not a good figher." Al-Adin speaks to the general. Fear edges his voice. Will he have to go home without helping? Will nightfall be ok with that?
Spartan, weilding a simple spear, mearly nods and waits for the the attack to start.
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Rust looks from Al to Etalon. "I'm sure we have no messenger as fast or quick as this here fastest and quickest theif in all tha land. What do you think Etalon?"
An man like Al could get news from one end of the battle faster then the wind. That could be crucial.
It could make the difference.
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Etalon nods to Rust Mane and looks down at Al-Adin.
"Yez, the Zummer King iz correct. I will need you to be fazt, Flower Courier. Your efforts will be critical in thiz battle."
He looks around and calls over a clockwork soldier who is carrying the Sacramento banner on a pole. Taking it in one hand, he holds it out to Al-Adin.
"Will you carry the flag of our city, Al-Adin, and bring courage and ztrength to our heartz?"
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Al-Adin nods, holding the banner high. The weight and awkwards are negligable to his strength. "Can we do this now?" He asks, and then mumbles quietly. "I just wanna go home."
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"And you will go home, Al-Adin, all of us will. We just have one more battle to fight, yes?"
The Winter Queen glides between the ranks to reach the front, the rusty rapier strapped to her back while she still wears the same Hedgespun armor that she adorned before all. Gossamer thin and showing more flesh than fabric, it shimmered in the morning sun.
"Whether we die here or live, we will all go home, that I promise each and every one of you. We will spill their blood for every step they take towards us until the grass can no longer grow and this tiny portion of the Hedge will be forever know as the last stand against the Storm."
Katrin's words spread like an icy determination, a final farewell to life and brings the here and now into context. All that matters is the present. This one moment.
The General bows to her, standing straight once more. "Queen Byeli, you honor uz with your prezence. Are your unitz ready to follow the initial puzh?"
She nods and looks round. Behind the front line are several dozens of clockwork soldiers but rather than being standard spearmen, they are drabbed in long leather coats and stand in rigid formation. Each one carries a heavy axe slung over their shoulders and a plain mask with crimson tears running from the eye slits, oval voids of darkness staring out.
Katrin turns back, smiling coldly. "Tears will be spilt, General."
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