"MY LORD! STEADY YOURSELF!" Verdant shouted his warning, pulling Oliver's attention back to the left of them. Another army gathered, infantry and cavalry together, perhaps ten thousand strong, perhaps more. These plodded forward, slow and sinister.
There was a man amongst them, that pulled the eye more than any other, on account of his glittering crown, and the many bannermen that surrounded him. "Emperor Tiberius…" Oliver murmured, seeing him, but not truly understanding what it was that he was looking at. He felt not the danger of the situation, only a deep, inexplicable, overwhelming sadness.
His Emerson allies were already being slaughtered in a display of carnage, and yet he felt none of the urgency he usually would, when was cornered in a trap. He felt only that deep overwhelming sadness, and he pulled his eyes back towards the hill, and then out beyond them.
