The sound of booming drums comes in waves over the battle, coming from inside the war gate where the HW soldiers continually pour out. It rises to a steady thrum…thrum…thrum…thrum and the magical gate shimmers with vibrantly blue and red sparks that erupt from its edges. A few shouts of commands come from two or three voices inside the warp, audible, but completely jumbled and not understandable. The drums stop and the warp wavers back to its normal simple swirl, like a deep sink of reality water going down a sideways drain.

As the noise from the actual battle resumes its normal clamor and blast, a few of the HW members standing in defense of the gate turn to look at what waits through the pinhole that leads to the other side. After one minute of this staring, one of the HW lets out a shrill call and the others echo him. They flood away from the gate, stumbling over each other and running right into the path of the marines, the cenzarians, the angels and the warriors.

The cry of a large number follows them and, with a strange suck of air, the warp releases a horde of running, armored men. The first line of men is clad in shining plate with shields raised in front of them, the symbol of blue-green fire leaping up the polished black metal of each. They strangely resemble what most would call medieval knights or soldiers and it is almost amusing to see them brandish ordinary swords as they run. What possible chances have they against gun-toting terrorists?

“Halt!” a voice shouts as a lumbering beast follows the foot soldiers from the warp, a plume-helmeted man seated proudly upon the odd creature’s back.

The first line immediately halts and kneels, swords propped almost identically atop the right corner of each shield.

“Target!” the voice gruffly growls over the sound of combat.

Each sword pivots until a possible target is found, most of them targeted on the backs of running HW.

“Charge…”

Crackles of lightening power down each sword, illuminating the entire army and making their silver armor shine like a lake on a full moon night.

“Fire!”

Those streams of lightening congregate at the tip of each sword and then are released upon the targets. HW’s are stopped in their tracks, white energy rippling up their forms and frying them inside out. When the general shock of the army’s arrival is over, it is seen that the line of shields now makes a clear barrier around the goal…the warp gate.

More shining soldiers continue to arrive and spread to the sides, assuming a great circle around the battlefield…

The flow of HW is ended with their presence.

The knightly army gazes coldly back at the marines, the battlefield falling very solemn. Only small sounds are heard now. The whur of the portal, the small sounds of metal against metal as both armies shift uneasily as they wait for the other to advance and the crackling of flames from continually burning fires flickering sparsely throughout the battleground.

“Put up your weapons and stand down from the gate!” the apparent leader of the shining army shouts from across the field. “We have destroyed your enemies and…”

A breathy “Sir!” sounds from the warp and a skinny lad leaps from the portal, pushing through the gathered army.

“And…” the leader begins again, but he is again interrupted by the jostling happening around the great beast he rides on.

Much mumbling erupts from the center of the horde, where the general sits. The man bends down to recieve a message from one of his officers. Soon, he again throws his attention to the marine army.

“Let us speak civilly, my lords!” the leader bellows towards Clutch, Jharm, and Lord Dante. “Unarm yourself and I will do so as well…we shall meet in the center of this unfortunate misunderstanding!”

Without any hesitation, the leader growls an abrupt command to his army and they put up their swords, the shields continuing to stay up however. He is helped down from the braying creature that serves as his mount and the ranks slowly divide to make a path for him. His silver plume bobs above the rest of the unadorned helmets, a few men following him and leading him….

The general of the newly arrived army removes his helmet, as the ranking officers of the opposing side get closer. He tucks it carefully under his arm and clears his throat with an audible grunt. His face is middle-aged and scarred with past battles…both physically and emotionally. The deep depths of his brown eyes no longer hold a youthful glitter, but the sad hollowness of a man who has seen much. His dark hair lies in messy curls from the helmet and it is thinning on the top. The rest of his body could be one that would belong to a twentyish-year-old. Underneath the light metal that makes his armor is a body trained for war, muscles that were born of his vigorous labors. He snaps his feet together when the others have stopped in front of him and snaps a quick salute, one of the soldiers flinching at the near miss of his general’s elbow connecting with his nose.

“Stand down,” he hurriedly mumbles to his entourage which still stands only two steps behind him.

With a little clanking of armor, the soldiers step back, only two of the officers staying close by the shoulders of the leader.

“In the name of the Upper Umbra, I am at your service, my lords,” he returns his steady gaze to Lord Dante, Jharm and Jihon, lowering his hand from the salute. “You are obviously our enemy’s enemy and that, therefore, makes you our allies.”

He nods slightly to emphasize his words.

“The Hell’s Wind has been making itself a pest to us for quite a few months,” he continues. “Hijacking our portal to leave their filthy underworld and reek havoc throughout the Middle and Upper Umbra. Stealing from Our Lord and Lady’s Army, our much needed supplies, beasts and weapons. Destroying everything they come in contact with. They are sneaky, devilish bastards…and their ringmaster is a foul-smelling chap…a heavy drinker. He claims to represent another…a Lord Nasim…Jahana I believe. No matter the name, however, tt has been many years since I have opposed a force of their power.”

His breath comes out in a slow sigh.

“It is only now that we have caught them off guard and been able to destroy some of their numbers, as well as turn the link off that connects their portal to our own,” he smiles slightly, not letting it reach his eyes. “Your armies have certainly had much to do with helping us cut them off and I wish to thank you on behalf of the Lord and Lady.”

He shifts slightly and gives them a speculating look.

“It was by their command that we did not continue our attack. For they seem to know your army and your officers,” he shrugs at their questioning glances. “I am as baffled as you are of this, but I do not disobey orders.”

“Ehem,” the voice of a younger man cuts him off.

“They have also sent a messenger,” he doesn’t look pleased at this, but he takes one step to the side to reveal a tall thin teenager with a crooked grin on his face.

“My lords,” the young man wraps one arm around his own waist and casts the other out to the side, performing a graceful bow. “I am sent from Our Lady directly to make an invitation known to you.

He rolls his dark eyes up from the bow, then slowly he straightens.

“My Lady has asked that yourselves and your entire army be escorted into the portal,” he points at the warp gate still surrounded by the gleaming shields of the Upper Umbra Army. “Yet, most of all, she asks that your highest ranking officers be shown immediately to where she waits with her lord inside the palace. She asks that you only take a short time to decide and move into the portal, as time ticks much more quickly in our land.”

His smile fades a bit as they stare at him and he continues on.

“She knew that you might be hesitate and so she has given me a token that might be recognized by a few of you,” he snaps his fingers and a long case is brought out by two other finely uniformed men and laid at his feet.

He kneels and carefully unbuckles the case, a sheen of sweat appearing on his brow and his hands shaking as he slowly lifts the lid up.

“The…Kuru-su-nami…my lords,” he quickly steps back from the case, staring in horror at the large sword lying in the case. “The sword of horrors that cannot be touched by anyone but Her Greatness.”

His eyes flick up to the others nervously.

“Will you accept her invitation?”

The commotion coming from the marines' side of the field makes him widen his eyes and look past his audience.

"Your men fight amongst themselves, my lords...or the fiends from the Lower are not yet defeated."

He looks back at them as the general huffs out a sigh, obviously perturbed that the youngster has taken over the negotiations. They wait silently for an answer.

OOC: There you are, Clutch. I have taken you out of the truce party as you were preoccupied with Alex. And I have also made it so the general and the messenger have noticed the scuffle between Alex and the others. Sorry it's taken me this long, but I do work all day and last night I was unconcious for most of the night.