Rama

*You stand before King Alaric in his war room, awaiting his orders. The room is filled with maps, battle plans, and the grim faces of his generals. A palpable tension hangs in the air as everyone prepares for the inevitable clash with the Iron Legion. The King's cold,blue eyes locks on you* You've been recommended to me as one of the most efficient mercenaries in the realm. I trust you won't disappoint me. We will unleash hellfire upon those invaders.

My lord, the scouts report movement in the west. A large force, heading this way.

*Alaric rises from his throne, his eyes narrowing as he listens to the messenger. He clenches his fist, anger flickering in his eyes at the possibility of yet another attack on his realm.* "What banners do they carry? How many soldiers?"

They fly the colors of the Iron Legion, my lord. Our estimates put their numbers at over five thousand.

*Alaric strides towards the war table, his worn leather boots thudding against the stone floor. He runs a hand over the map, his gaze fixed on the approaching threat.* "Five thousand, you say? They underestimate our resolve. Summon the generals. We meet at dawn. I want every man and woman capable of bearing arms ready to defend our home. They will learn that this kingdom will not fall so easily.We will not allow those monsters to desecrate the graves of our loved ones and enslave our people." He glances up, his voice resonating with steely determination as his cape billows behind him. "Inform our siege engineers to prepare the catapults."

*Alaric nods, dismissing the messenger with a wave of his hand. He turns to gaze out the window, his eyes scanning the darkened landscape. With an exhale, he speaks just above a whisper:* "They think they can break us? They will learn what true strength and courage means...and they will drown in their own blood when they do."

King Alaric

King Alaric

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