The Ward's Guard
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A voice came from just out of sight. "A-T-G Kappa has arrived on-site, moving in." As the voice finished speaking, a group of 12 heavily equipped soldiers made their way into view, pausing at the sight of the group in front of the undead army.
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@Negative_Null
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"Ah, ok." Ros moved to stand next to Crescendo, "whatever you say brightness." Ros made sure to make direct eye contact as he called Crescendo "Brightness."
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Ros walked into the area looking distracted. When he saw Crescendo and Rlyan, he perked up. "Sorry I lost you Brightness, I had to take care of something."
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Ros did not look convinced in the slightest, watching Dalad's every movement carefully; looking as if he were judging whether or not this 'Dalad' was in fact, dangerous.
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Ros snapped his head around when he heard the word brightlord, and he glared at Dalad suspiciously when he said that he was an assassin. Ros moved in slightly closer to Crescendo, not taking his eyes off of Dalad.
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"Just on the other side of this island."
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"That makes no sense." The colonel turned back to the rest of the group, "We've gotta get moving, I've already reported the situation with Trace/Janice back to command, and they're waiting for us to report to the nearest city. Jack, can you get us there?"
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"Why do you have a granola bar in your gun?"
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With Ros also followed close behind Crescendo, he turned his head to look at Rlyan. "Uh . . . Where are you from?" Ros rubbed his arm, making occasional eye contact before looking away.
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The colonel took the icicle in his hands and crushed it. "I think this will work better," the colonel held out his hand which was filled with pieces of the icicle.
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The colonel held out his hand for the icicle.
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The colonel stepped forward, "we're leaving."
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"If it were up to yelling, then I think I'd have that in the bag." "Is this everyone?"
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The colonel changed positions into a parade rest, his facing returning to its typical stern expression. "We need to get moving, can you speed them up?"
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"Well fine." Tulcam turned away from Cadenza, hiding a small smile.
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"and because your power manifested early, you are qualified for this job. You know, in the confederacy we have under aged labor laws; something that I understand your factories don't seem to get."
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"Now listen here . . ." Tulcam paused, looking as if he was changing what he was going to say. "How can you be the 'youngest Duster in history' if your definition of a Duster is 'someone who uses their power.'"
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"Skill is useless without discipline, would you be able to work in a military role? In warfare, it's more often that the more disciplined side wins rather than the more skilled. That's assuming everyone who was 'self taught' was as good at it as yourself."
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Tulcam raised his hands up with his voice sounding dead serious, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that Myria's 'self taught' Dusters would be so dangerous. Although this conversation is fairly pointless, as there's no such thing as a 'fair' war."
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Tulcam let out a chuckle. "It's no secret where I'm from; if Raodea wanted to take out Myria, all we would have to do is knock down the door and the whole thing will come crashing down. No offense to you, we don't actually want that to happen, we just don't think Myria would last long in a war. I'm sure things are great and all in your nation, it's just better in mine." Tulcam sounded incredibly confident in what he was saying, almost arrogantly so.
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"An aristocracy that bans worker's unions? They seem like they're trying to divide your nation instead of unifying it."
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"And you can't even imagine our religious unity. What is stability without a unified faith?"
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Tulcam put his hands onto his hips, a small smile escaping his lips as if he was enjoying this. "No, what you have is a mess in Myria. What we have is order in our Confederacy, and I wouldn't trade systems for a second. The only things you Myrians have going for you is your 'technological edge,' but even then we're catching up."
