When the horde of creatures descended upon them as the ground cracked open, Tarian Arathor did not flinch; he was smiling instead.
About ten Siphons had died nearly in an instant, and Tarian felt sorrow as well as annoyance. These were good men and women who could have served him in the future, and now they were gone due to carelessness.
As much as he craved the signs of mysteries around this place, what he wanted more was blood, action, and the endless possibilities for growth, and now it had arrived.
He had been waiting for this, years of training against all forms of danger, and this was no different. The stakes were higher, the enemies were a lot uglier, but the math was the same: kill or be killed.
"Shield wall!" he commanded. He did not shout, but his voice touched every ear that was under his banner.
