Walking among the gathered farmers, labourers and in some cases, children, Alex tried to exert confidence. If the villagers saw that she was not afraid, that she was confident in the up coming battle, it might just raise moral a slice. Granted they'd hardly jump for joy and boast about the ease of the coming combat, but its better to be scared than terrified, Alex thought. She placed a hand on the shoulder of the odd farmer or two giving them a nod.<br/><br/>She saw a young lad who'd managed to rustle up some rusted, battered and likely, shawdly constructed armour. She watched him fail to place it upon his torso several times, and once backwards, before she made her way over, helping strap the armour on. He thanked her shakily, terrified and quite possibly shyly.<br/><br/>She was begging to have serious doubts about the defense of the village. As the defenders they did have an advantage. They knew the layout better, they had the advantage of being entrenched. And if all went well they wouldn't even have to charge. But that advantage was minor. The bandits were likely thugs, perhaps some ex-military, washed up mercs and wasters. If they took enough losses they'd likely retreat. They didn't have to push them back, just hold long enough. Or! Or! They could kill the bandit leader. That always worked in the stories! She pondered wondering out of the village and challenging the Bandit King to a duel. If she won the bandits would have to disband. Of course! No. That was only in stories. She pouted for a moment, a villager noticing it seemed a little confused.<br/><br/>Shaking her head she began to speak somewhat loudly as she wondered towards the front of the villagers 'line'.<br/><br/>"Citizens. We live in dark times. Greenvale, is your home. Its soil runs through your veins. But it does not exist to carry us. It is not a tree to take shelter under from the coming storm. It will demand your toil, your sacrifices, and if it asks, your very life. And you will not deny her it. You will give until there is nothing left to give.  And Greenvale will survive.<br/><br/>We are Greenvale! And Greenvale is us! If it lives, then so to do you!" She placed her hideous helmet atop her head and drew her sword, spinning it in a circular arc, her shield in her other hand. She was ready for battle, death or any other fate the maker could throw at her.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>