The celebration is long over. Remnants of the revelry litter the battlefield as the caretakers, satisfied with the victory over the Equine Warriors, clean up the mess. Even though the battle was for naught, the Legion is joyous, for none of our warriors sustained serious injury.
The Legion is settling in for the evening in anticipation of tomorrow evening's clash with the Tejas warriors. The Legion remembers last winter, when they met the Tejas, and how a young Captain came forward to prevent our defeat.
Arre, having returned from his journey to the Great Arch, joins the majority of the Legion as they listen to the tales of the Marshall. For those who do not know, the Marshall is one of our greatest warriors of all time: His likeness shall be placed in the Hallowed Shrine when it is time. The Marshall, afflicted by injury and time, decided the Legion should carry on without his leadership for a time. Perhaps next year, he will return to teach us more. For now, he has become an Ambassador, carrying the truth to all who dare to listen to his words.
“Legion of the Spiralhorn, hear my words! I shall not be silenced any longer. Five summers have passed since we were defeated in the Great Battle, and I shall no longer be silent.
“The Legion was defeated only by treachery and defeat. I have spoken these words to all armies, so they know that the Horns are true champions. The army, which defeated us, has been decimated by injury and suspicion, and should cease to be a threat soon.”
Sir Marshalles looked upon the Legion. A proud smile appeared upon his lips as he looked into the eyes of the youngest. His gaze soon focused upon Sima, the child he had met last fall.
“I remember you, for you have faith in the Horns. Believe, child, for you will witness with your own eyes the rebirth of the Spiralhorn. You will see greatness. Perhaps one day, you shall be a leader among us.”
From the East, an ominous hooded figure approached the Legion. Murmurs of speculation raced through the crowd. When he arrived at the front of the gathering, he lowered his hood and held aloft a scroll. The Legion was silenced in awe of the sight of Dez Urbanus.
“I come bearing news from our General. I hold a formal Declaration of War, effective in twenty-one days. We have borne the shame of defeat for too long. Our honor is at stake. We shall fight with our souls. We will never surrender. Prepare a fire, for we shall burn sage as we plan our strategies for battle.
“By my command, the Legion shall clothe themselves in the regal colors of Blue and Gold. The entire Legion shall make ready. The warriors of the West are already threatening us with defeat. I shall not hear of this!
“Maternia, Guardian Mother of the Horns: Raise the Horns high for all to see! Though some question our readiness for battle, I command all to look upon the Horns and prepare!”
“I, Dez Urbanus, officially notify the Legion: WE ARE AT WAR!”