Kyle
"We reinforced it as much as possible, but there's not much more we could do without damming the channel entirely. In any case time is of the essence, we must go."
Davora grabs his helmet from a nearby stool and puts it on, striding out the door.
Ethnon
You rush to the Archmage's tower again, thankful for the magic halving your travel time.
[ROLL: INT + Thing From the Far Beyond (28)] ((CRIT))
By a stroke of luck, you manage to attune the wards perfectly to each other. Ghostly tendrils snake out of the ward, flying upwards to wrap around the invisible leylines in the air, as a faint blue bubble begins to expand to eventually cover the entire city. As you walk back from the tower you see the gold armored captain from when you awoke. He's shouting for you to come with him and is followed by several soldiers and that pretty elf girl. Time to be even more helpful?
Everyone
As you approach the sluice gate, the roars and shrieks of the demon horde become louder. The gate itself shakes every so often with the impact of something heavy, possibly a battering ram. Davora strides in front of the formation of soldiers in front of the gate, and begins to speak to them.
"I have fought many a night beside you all! I have watched many good men die, and there is a good chance I will see many more, but if you die this day, remember that you did not die in vain! There is no nobler cause than the defense of the innocent, and one's home! If you die in service of this cause, the gods will surely welcome you with open arms!"
He pauses, as the gate crashes and creaks behind him.
"I needn't remind you all that you are servants of the Empire! You are the brave men and women of the Imperial Regiment, and you have a reputation to uphold! When this gate spliters apart, and rains shrapnel down upon you, you will hold! When the army of demons descends upon you with fiery fury, you will hold! And until your last breath, when your enemy takes your life, and the spirit of death comes to collect your soul from your ragged corpse, you will hold! Because the Imperial Regiment does not yield! We fight until our last! And I'll be damned if I'm going to let a bunch of sadists and rotting corpses be the first to make us fold!"
As he finishes his speech, the soldiers in front of him roar triumphantly, weapons raised. The gate crashes again, bending and cracking under the blow. Davora raises his shining steel sword and silver shield, bellowing at the top of his lungs.
"IMPERIALS! ARE YOU READY TO STARE DEATH IN THE FACE?"
The soldiers reply in unison, "SIR, YES, SIR!"