'The time with Igna's been eye-opening. I would have never expected someone of this level of intrigue to be real. He's like a character from an ancient war, a strategic genius. Not that the title would befit him. Look at the Captain, he's stunned and unable to act. The siege alarms went off, the 200 force made for the walls. It's a pity really, all of this was a spur-of-the-moment plan. I remember the expression clearly, one of utmost confidence and determination. Despite the precautionary measures the Captain had in form of hidden fighters, the fact remains – a single stroke beheaded the hidden. Blood drips from the wet-wall painting, a lovely rendition of the surrounding turned matt.'
Downstairs, at the foot of the watchtower, a bubbling muck of darkened aura condensed from ethereal to physical. Strong and powerful men in bullet armor and the latest rifles rose. A lack of emotion in the glare, they turned to nod affirmingly. Communication was present and telepathic.
