The group joined the ranks of soldiers gathering in the courtyard, each standing in a tight, orderly formation as John addressed them. His figure was imposing, every inch the battle-worn captain clad in his gleaming golden armor. His voice rang out, cutting through the clamor of nearby skirmishes and distant shouts.
"Soldiers of Laxen!" he boomed, his gaze sweeping across the assembly. "You are the shield of this kingdom, the very heart of its defense! We hold these walls until reinforcements arrive. We cannot falter, we cannot break, because we are Laxen's last stand!"
The soldiers straightened, murmuring with renewed resolve. They clutched their weapons tighter, nodding with determination. John's speech seemed to ignite a sense of pride and unity in their ranks, as though the weight of defending their homeland was a fire rekindled within each of them.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!