"You have all been chosen because you are the best. Whether that is in your class, your unit, or your order."
General Garret Marr stood in front of an assembled group of thirty strong, his hands clasped calmly behind his back. Marr had always had a gentle manner about him, Zana thought, softly spoken and easy to smile. She'd had a hard time believing he had issued the killing blow to a Dreadlord by himself during the Revolution. Today he was dressed in a simple white shirt and breeches; no pomp, no circumstance. Just one of them. It put several of the Guardsmen at ease. She could see it in the way they stood relaxed even whilst at attention. For the Dreadlords and Initiates gathered amongst them however Marr barely seemed to hold their attention, their eyes kept drifting to her.
"What we are asking of you today is no easy thing, and we are asking. After this brief any one of you is welcome to walk away, though Dreadlord Circe here will wipe your memories of anything you hear here today. This is classified. If any of you are caught discussing this group beyond these walls will be executed without trial."
Zana tried not to wince.
"You have been chosen to join a special taskforce. One that will be working directly under Archon Morid and General Morid to hunt and capture rogue Archon's," a murmur broke out amongst the group at that revelation. Most of them had been involved with hunting Dreadlords down and bringing them home but Archon's were rare. There was barely ten of them named now, and most had stayed loyal after the Revolution.
Most.
"Over the next few months you will be trained to withstand attacks from the highest class of mage. Archon Morid, if you would," Marr half turned to her as if to motion her forward. Zana took a deep breath and stepped to the front. Unlike Marr she had dressed smartly. Polished boots, fitted beige breeches, and a military jacket in a deep blue with a gold sash around the middle that matched the decorative braiding. The sword she had used to kill so many of her own hung at her side gleaming in the sun and was a sharp contrast to the slight but obvious curve of her pregnancy. She clasped her hands behind her back.
"General Marr has said all that needed saying. I won't go easy on you because our enemy won't, and I won't lie to you and say you'll all survive this mission. I will look at none of you poorly if you choose to leave now. Those who wish to stay, please join me. Those who wish to leave, General Marr. You have ten minutes."
General Garret Marr stood in front of an assembled group of thirty strong, his hands clasped calmly behind his back. Marr had always had a gentle manner about him, Zana thought, softly spoken and easy to smile. She'd had a hard time believing he had issued the killing blow to a Dreadlord by himself during the Revolution. Today he was dressed in a simple white shirt and breeches; no pomp, no circumstance. Just one of them. It put several of the Guardsmen at ease. She could see it in the way they stood relaxed even whilst at attention. For the Dreadlords and Initiates gathered amongst them however Marr barely seemed to hold their attention, their eyes kept drifting to her.
"What we are asking of you today is no easy thing, and we are asking. After this brief any one of you is welcome to walk away, though Dreadlord Circe here will wipe your memories of anything you hear here today. This is classified. If any of you are caught discussing this group beyond these walls will be executed without trial."
Zana tried not to wince.
"You have been chosen to join a special taskforce. One that will be working directly under Archon Morid and General Morid to hunt and capture rogue Archon's," a murmur broke out amongst the group at that revelation. Most of them had been involved with hunting Dreadlords down and bringing them home but Archon's were rare. There was barely ten of them named now, and most had stayed loyal after the Revolution.
Most.
"Over the next few months you will be trained to withstand attacks from the highest class of mage. Archon Morid, if you would," Marr half turned to her as if to motion her forward. Zana took a deep breath and stepped to the front. Unlike Marr she had dressed smartly. Polished boots, fitted beige breeches, and a military jacket in a deep blue with a gold sash around the middle that matched the decorative braiding. The sword she had used to kill so many of her own hung at her side gleaming in the sun and was a sharp contrast to the slight but obvious curve of her pregnancy. She clasped her hands behind her back.
"General Marr has said all that needed saying. I won't go easy on you because our enemy won't, and I won't lie to you and say you'll all survive this mission. I will look at none of you poorly if you choose to leave now. Those who wish to stay, please join me. Those who wish to leave, General Marr. You have ten minutes."