“And what, exactly, is stand­ing around chat­ting going to solve? Noth­ing? Exactly! Let’s get going, then! We’ve got thirty miles to cover before sunset!”

Hon­estly, some­one has to get this lot in shape. I don’t know what obscure twist of fate brought us together to do this job, but Fate has clearly not led an army before. Or, he has a cruel sense of humour.

“Come on! What was it we’re sup­posed to be doing? Oh yes, sav­ing the world. Won’t get done sit­ting in a field!”

I’ve fought along­side them, and some of them aren’t half bad. But there’s clearly been no train­ing going on. Bat­tle­field aware­ness, sorry, looks like nobody’s heard of that. So that’s why I’m here. I’m sure they hate me for it right now, but someone’s got to take this lazy-arsed rab­ble and turn them into a respectable force. There’s a war on right now, in case you hadn’t noticed, and the last thing I want to do is let some army or other get in our way!