"Gentlemen, all of you gathered here today, know what is on the horizon" a man with a fighters physique, graying hair and a variety of scars on his face, a particular nasty burn marring his neck - said looking at the assembled men below.
"On the morrow, we set sail into waters unknown - together we be tested like never before, we will float or sink as one." The man banged his fist on the podium, the jagged scar that stretched diagonally across his face, from forehead to lip highlighted in the dying sunlight.
" We have trained for this singular purpose for over two years, sweat, blood and tears have been spilled in preparation for this, and make no mistake, gentlemen, more will be spilled in never before seen quantities."
The grey haired man stood up and Wymar noticed that even in here amongst his men, his sword hand rested on his pommel, his feet in a veiled combat stance, one that remained effective, despite its hidden nature -one of promising lethality. A sign of the mans experience. Wymar knew of course that a sword was unnecessary in the hands of this particular warrior, the Lord Commander was one of the Blessed, a sworn Knight. The man did not need a sword, for he was the sword, an old sword admittedly, a battered and worn one but nevertheless still as deadly as ever. Wymar, recalled the Lord Commanders history, a veteran of war, the survivor of three expeditions. Besides, the Lord Commander of the Legion was an almost mythological figure in the Legion, the men assembled below would die for him and he for them.
The man was highest authority present in the Camp. The man who tomorrow will wield absolute authority. His word will be law, his decrees justice itself.
"The stakes have never been higher, the world looks to us, they place their burdens, hopes and dream in our capable hands and we will not be found wanting!" the Lord Commander´s declaration was met with thunderous roars.
"Fellow legionaries, my fellow men, this is the first Legion created with the cooperation of three nations and thus all of us originate from those nations." Pausing he looked at a man, "French", switching to another man, "British" and finally he looked at Wymar, "Germanic".
"We are all citizens of different nations. But make no mistake, when you donned those cloaks that flutter behind you , when you picked up those swords that hang by your side, when you swore to defend those to your left and right, with your life if required then you left those countries behind. You are no longer of British, French or Germanic descent, you are a legionnaire." The lord commander roared out across the field of assembled men.
"The Legion is your family, the Legion is your country, the Legion is your home." His whisper traveled to each mans ears.
"We, my fellow men, are brothers, not of chance, but of choice - we are brothers of creed and duty and we will not be found wanting!" his former whisper turned into another roar as it echoed across.
"Tomorrow, we journey into the unknown, tomorrow we leave the world behind. Tomorrow our tale begins, and tonight we feast in celebration of our future."
Wymar, scoffed. Speeches are good for morale, aye, he would give them that, but if you truly want morale to be high, give them food, give them a feast. Looking at the gathered men, he couldn't help but smile, as the thunderous applause and sheer energy that greeted the statement of a feast, dwarfed the entire previous clamor.
Rightfully so, Wymar thought, as he slapped his plate armor - where his belly would be, with a smile on his face. This would be the last meal of the Worlds cuisine they could enjoy for a long time, his smile letting out a dribble of drool as he thought about the pizza that awaited him in the officers' tents.
***
Wymar von Gertai, sat gripping the reins of his horse nervously, staring up above at the shining sun. Sweat dripping from his brow as he watched a few falcons fly above in the sky, stretching their mighty wings before landing on outstretched armored arms.
Looking down at his own animal companion, his horse seemingly as nervous as he felt, shuffling as she was around, and unravelling the grass with her hooves.
"Easy, easy. Ally, nice and easy." He said calming the horse down with pats as he took in the sights around. As far as the eye could see was, a sea of color and steel, armored horses and knights about, discipline apparent as in their orderly formation. Banners and strings of colored cloth fluttered everywhere in the wind, various coats of arms proudly on display.
Wymar heard a trumpet in the distant behind as knights rode delivering orders and ensuring the Legion was ready.
Today, was the day which Wymar had trained for years, they all had. They were in an A-2 travel class formation. A standard formation, the second traveling formation, one they had trained until it could be done asleep. The formation was highly basic, standardized in order to be effective in a large amount of potential scenarios. The only one more commonly used was the A-1 formation, the 1st one in its class, used when navigating through safe territories, compared dangerous ones where A-2 was utilized.
They were posted around the carriages in a hollow box formation; the carriages were located in the middle. The 4th legions´ combined might made up five separate hallow boxes. Wherein each, in the empty space, the armored carriages stood. The lifeblood of the expedition - carrying the supplies that would keep them alive during the duration of the expedition. Each of the boxes, the Chapters of the Legion, where constituted of three thousand men and at the head of them where the five commanders, each responsible for a Chapter. The Lord Commander was the one in charge of the Commanders, in control of overall tactics and strategies. Further the Lord Commander acted as a replacement shall one of them fall.
Wymar, straightened up by instinct upon hearing the Chapter horn behind him. Instantly signalling to his squadron behind him with a hand signal as he yelled out in a cultured voice.
"Gentlemen, visors down and spears up."
Following his own command, Wymar pulled down the visor of his helmet, turning to his right and unclasping the spear that was bound there to the saddle of the horse. Heaving he moved it into the correct position, holding it aloft - it's deadly glistening tip pointing upwards as he rested it against a small circular metal holster attached to the horse. An addition to the Legion's standardized equipment ordered by the Lord Commander himself. A welcome one, Wymar thought, as he instantly felt the majority of the weight of the spear disappear, allowing him to save his strength.
Around his fellow brothers were doing the same, a phenomena on going throughout the host, as they all acted in accordance to protocol. Respective units preparing their respective weapons and responsibilities, ranging from bows to lances. Nodding in approval at our discipline and professionalism, Wymar turned and gazed at the distant collection of knights riding towards us. Their banners flying in the wind, one particular banner bringing a warm smile to his face.
The largest banner and the one belonging to the Legion, the banner to which he and all those present had sworn their allegiance.
The knights came to a stop at the head of our battalion, horses coming to a stop with dirt flying around their hooves. A knight in intricate decorated gray armor, removed his helm, revealing his graying hair as he held it to his side. Riding forward, his squire following behind him to his left, he bellowed across the gathered knights and men.
"Legionaries! Today is your day! Today is the day you have been waiting for! Today is the day tears shall flow freely on the battlefield!"
"There" the Lord Commander yelled pointing towards the dominating gate of darkness on the horizon - the Voidgate. "There! Ready for you to conquer! Lays GLORY!" screaming the man unsheathed his sword with a twirl hoisting its glistening surface in the air. The sun-rays reflecting in its steely surface - the surface of the blade seemingly a beam of light.
"Let us march into the lands of the unknown, let us march INTO The World Beyond! Forward, legionaries! Let us march towards Immortality!" The man yelled, turning around and sheathing his sword. The Lord Commander took his helmet from the squire and gracefully donning it he rode towards his personal guards and past them heading towards the distant gate at a gallop, his last words carrying and lingering on the wind.
The men In front of Wymar, stirred into motion as they began moving with practiced easy forwards towards the horizon, as the Lord Commander´s last words reached him.
"Forwards towards the Void!"