(https://i.imgur.com/5iQ18yv.jpg?1) A solitary Ranger steps forth to the front, his cloak's insignia identifying him as the Master Sergeant for the Ranger Corps in attendance.  He stands at attention, weapons at the ready and bow at his hip, and snaps his heels together as his Rangers fall into line behind him.<br/><br/>"Master Sergeant Sharsin reporting, Sirrahs.  We stand at the ready, able to endure indefinitely in the wilds ahead.  If the mission brass wishes to provision the Ranger Corps with additional equipment, Sirrahs, we would suggest only donations to the temples, sire, for we will rain death upon our enemies at no cost to our betters, we will brew potions at no expense, and we will march without complaints.  Sirrahs."<br/><br/>He steps back, his form formidable among the ranks of his fellows, and for that moment, inspired by the speech of Myra, the Ranger corps looks ready to deal death to the very heart of the wild spirit of the continent itself... to subjugate it to their mutual will, to bend it before them and lay waste to any creature that threatens the expansion of their empire without even the first ceremonious hoisting of a banner.