[x] A lance that burns with a blue flame.
It's beautiful.
An elegant weapon, with strange grooves along it's silver shaft that leak an ethereal blue. The azure flame seems to crackle quietly with an air of menace, like a campfire about to turn into a roaring inferno.
But you already know the cost of such power.
For a flame cannot live without something to burn.
_______________________________________________
"...Major! Major! Wake UP, Damn it!" The first thing you notice is the familiar leathery scent of a sweaty combat glove seems to fill your nose, while a hand tries to gently pat you into wakefulness.
The second thing you notice, is that your right arm hurts like a son of a bitch.
You inform the room of this in a manner befitting an officer and a gentleman.
"... Christ, but I didn't think the Major knew even half those words..." Someone whispers from behind you. You grit your teeth, and try very hard not to scream in rage. Or possibly pain. Why does your arm hurt so much anywa-
Oh. That's right.
A phantom knight tried to cut it off.
Part of you wants to just scream something about ghosts being bullet-proof is complete bullshit, and the other wants to know why the fuck stabbing them works then.
You decide to inquire as to the current situation instead of thinking about such ridiculous crap.
"Well sir, after we, ah, extricated ourselves from our position in Gallow's Way, we came straight back to Merino. Luckily, that shiny armor means the enemy can't manage much more than a walking pace, so once we got going we outpaced them with no problems at all."
Well, isn't that dandy. You can run away just fine, but you can't actually do anything to stop the enemy. That bodes well.
Staff Sergeant Bristol, the one responsible for waking you up, goes on to give you a brief run down of the situation.
Ever since the strange fog rolled in, which rolled in across the entire front by the way, radio communication has been jammed. Strong signals can still get through, but smaller systems meant to serve as command and control in the field have been having an extremely rough time of it.
Your Company's reports are fairly consistent with what's been reported up and down the Glacis. Fog destroying the ability to engage at range, while melee units, that are surprisingly resistant to the idea that bullets should kill them, make so much scrap metal out of armor and flesh.
But that's not really the worst of it. And it says something that having your country's entire defensive line forced into retreat somehow isn't the worst news.
Bles, the Royal City herself, has been put to the flame. The thrice-be-damned Schallmarch Army of fucking bullshit can apparently deploy dragons that ignore AA. The Palace and Parliament both were burned to ashes, and half the city is still on fire.
You take a long, deep breath. And breathe out. Then you do it again. And again.
You keep at it for about a minute, before you take a long look around.
You're set up on a couch in a rather spartan looking office. The only object that really stands out is the large insignia on the wall, indicating that this is the office of the Fort Merino commander. And there's a tiny hole in the wall, at about head height. You have a feeling you're not going to like what's coming next.
You ask where the base commander is.
"Well sir, you see... Ah..." Three pairs of eyes flick to the hole, then back to you. There's a very brief silence.
"According to what's left of HQ sir, you are now the highest ranking officer in this region, and have been given command of Fort Merino until further notice."
You take great care to make sure the next few words out of your mouth aren't expletives.
[ ] Write in.