The Commencment.
The revolting organic creep pulsated through the zealots and dragoons legs, seeming to beckon death with every beat. Zaramis stood behind his troops, observing each of it's members with confidence and satisfaction. His army, silent and disciplined did not show a quiver of fear. He saw the confident zealots, standing tall, their glistening body armor shimmering within the two beating suns. Their deadly blades drawn from the focused concentration of their psionic energies. He moved on to the powerful dragoons, the mechanical structure, giving rebirth to his fallen brethren. Zaramis watched them flex their powerful legs, knowing the awesomeness of their power. He wondered to himself how can his other Protoss comrades resort to the other units. He was always disgusted from the begging with the introduction of the other new units. He denied the use of scouts, hated the carriers, loathed the use of reavers. What is the glory in that? What can top the fierce power of his zealots tearing flesh with their deadly blades, or the minor explosions caused by the antiparticle phase disruptor of the dragoons, burning their enemies? The high templar shook his head of disapproval, but nevertheless focused back on the situation on hand.
The Zerg home base on the planet was only a short distance away. Zaramis faced a fortified base and a defending army made up of zerglings, hydralisks, and mutalisks, not to mention sunken colonies. He knew that this would be a tough battle with his army of about thirty zealots and twenty dragoons. Maybe he would even have to unleash powers of his own, a situation rarely ever needed by Zaramis. Without having to do anything but nod, his army was on the move. A formation of a solid barrier line, the zealots in front and dragoons in close back for supporting fire advanced slowly in the direction of the base. Marching like rolling thunder, the made their way closer until finally the base was in view. Zaramis saw a few sunken colonies, with their tentacles flailing about, the blistering spawning pool, and their disgusting hive among other buildings, all on the festering creep.
It wasn't long before the Zerg had spotted their troops as they waited just outside the base. The army had just made it right outside the radius of the sunken colony's tentacles when the ground unearthed. Mounds of dirt lifted as the crumbling earth revealed burrowed zerglings and hydralisks. They emerged roaring and screeching with a primal fury, advancing toward the Protoss threat. As they came closer and closer, the dauntless Protoss stood prepared and calm, the zealots clenching their psionic blades, the dragoons warming up the antiparticle blasts. As the Zerg nearly got in range, High Templar Zaramis let out a mighty war cry.
"FOR AIUR!"
The troops responded back in whelps and yells, the words "For Aiur!" resounding down the front. The dragoons senses ready to attack, the zealots going into an almost blind rage, their psionic blades pulsing from the excess energy. The zerglings were only feet away, inching closer and closer, the ravaging talons threatening the zealots.
The army waited calmly for the onslaught……..