...and withholding no wraith they entered.
It seemed all of Telara was finally united as one. One purpose, one goal. A solid confederation of Guardians and Defiants had amassed to deliver the killing blow to the wicked treachery of a most despised Regulos. Years of science and study now combined with the brute force of the most massive army in the history of ages was now a promise of victory. It was Czariticus' cunning and political prowess that brought the nations finally together with one accord. Some would say it was his Iron will to rule all of Telara. Whatever the case the science of the age brought forth a means to enter the rift and deal a deathblow to regulos once and for all, leaving only ...one...left...to rule.
The Armys of the Guardian Knights and Defiants fell together upon the darkened land of Stillmore pouring over the hills and crushing all before them heading to their prize, the rift. A final prayer of blessing led by the superstitious guardian priests was followed by the energized roar of countless machines of battle and wave after wave of battle hardened, battle ready warriors, rogues, clerics, mages and even some farmers were chasing behind with sharp tools and vigor!
As the Order of planar Studies technicians readied their triad of machines around the rift, the Army 10,000 strong fell silent, all about to enter the unknown darkness that lay beyond. 3000 heavy calvalry of Horses, machines and beast of all makes and models awaited as a young Bahmi slowly walked her mount forward to the place where the self appointed "ruler" of Telara sat staring into the forming lights of the charging beacon. She turned to see his face as he nodded to her, confidence beaming from the moment.
"Viivas Vitorous", He spoke to her in his native tongue with a partial smile as he turned his head back to the growing light central to the forming tear.
A technician, white dirty robed approached. "My Lord, it is ready".
With out delay he gave a nod to Gwen his trusted cleric and turned his mount to face those thousands at his rear and their generals. He said nothing, but the simple raising of his sword sent blood curldling screams and battle cries echoing off of the surrounding mountains. The air rang, hummed and whistled with the energy and power of the magic and energy flowing through the crowd as battle preparations were being encanted, cast and enhanced. Al the while the thrum of cold steel weapons banging shield acted as a rythym to the music of scorcery and science. This was the beautiful mesmerizing dread sound of war.
Pointing his necrotic blade forward, toward the now swirling blinding light of the rift he began to march, followed by all. Weapons drawn, spells on lips and witholding no wraith, they entered the realm of Regulos.