The Army's main post was a hastily erected pavilion at the edge of their defensive perimeter. Maps and dispatches were spread across a folding table for some final checks and talks before everything was packed away for travel. Captain Cyera stood looking down at it under the lantern light.
She was a tall woman with close-cropped greying hair and the hard eyes of someone who had survived multiple Descents despite being mortal… and despite staying in the Continental Army since she was twenty three. The career soldier looked up as a dark clad figure entered with a gaze that quickly assessed the cultivator.
"Ironclad Order? Name and business."
The tall, even compared to her, young man retrieved the sealed dispatch from their black blazer jacket. It was spun and placed on the required spot of the table - marking the youth as someone who had received Army officer training and kept it to heart.
"Qatrand er Yecine. Our commander sent this."
