Soon, Farini read a pre-battle speech for his soldiers from the height of the hill he was at.
His words were carried by the wind and the blessed Whisper, who sent it to other devotees, so they could witness the miracle of mind-speech unsullied by mortal tongues.
"Men of the true faith, devoted to our divine protector, Dalmanrach, be praised his name! Today, the fate of our kingdom will be decided by your hands. Your swords are the swords of gods, guided by their will! I am but a vessel of their knowledge. It's you, my devout warriors, who will conquer our prosperity!"
The soldiers cheered, and the wave of their voices filled Farini with the echo of their excitement. He stood even straighter.
'Good work, Farini,' Whisper said in his mind. 'The opening words worked well. Instead of reminding the yesterday peasants and professional soldiers about disparities between them, you united all under the roof of their shared beliefs… But many of them still worry.'
