Through a freak weather storm, harnessed by Umi to create a time traveling device, it inevitably backfired on him, the resulting explosions latched onto those with extensive magic, requiring vast amounts to move them through time. These select mages were gathered as they traveled through time and arrived in a big group. Any further explanation would get diluded and confusing, so Umi chose not to inform everyone else of how it happened.

They arrived in the water, wading through it, they were immediately caught by the police thanks to the huge explosion that the time portal created. They were arrested by the MM forces and placed in the back of their detainment ship as they were about to be taken away, Umi saved them. He asked to speak to there leader, a stout grizzled man, perhaps the veteran of some war came to him with two ensigns at his side.

"We teleported here in order to find work, we're Mercenaries, i came with my group, the ones your arresting. We were about to enlist before the gateport shot us a little too far, so what do you say?"

From behind the captain, one of his ensigns chimed in

"Recruitment at an all time low, sir, we need all the help we can get"

"Mercenaries eh? Bring them back to Orestes with us, we'll find out what to do with them there."

As everyone was loaded into the back of the ship, as he sat down, Umi noticed he meant a great deal of the mages in the group. Many of them former schoolmates of his.

Nhieling were still sitting, not really worried about their situation.
He looked around, and suddenly choose to stand up. Then he walked in Umi direction and asked : Boss, I was wondering... Could you gave use more information about this place and the mission? You were somehow evasive the last time we asked, but out of faith we follow you here. Now could you tell us more?

"We're back around one hundred years ago during the last great war. And right about now "boss" just got us conscripted into one of the armies... either way the death toll in this war was phenominally high, killing nearly a quarter of the entire population of the magical world. Bottom line is make peace with whatever gods you worship because the odds of brainiac here getting us out of this mess before we die is PHENOMINALLY low..."

Mortimer wasn't even trying to suppress the frustration in his voice. He knew that his comments would probably inflame Umi but right now he didn't care. He had been yanked through the portal through space time JUST as he had finished baking his masterpiece cookies. Now by the time he got back they were going to be cold and stale... AND he felt that his odds of survival weren't that good hence why he was Especially cranky. There is no better way to cheese someone off than to take away their cookies and put them in a situation with a 90% death rate.

"Ohohoho... you guys, I was really busy getting ready tonight. Look what you done!" Ayra sighs, as she was only wearing her underwear in an indecent matter at that. One could only wonder why she was dressed like that, but she obviously wouldn't tell anyone. "You guys need to protect me! You owe me for dragging me into this!" Ayra says, looking in a mirror, doing her hair in a ponytail.

Oh ! Ayra ~ Said Nhieling with an amused smile. If I were you I would put some clothe on, no matter how hot you may be, the weather might be... cold.

But don't worry, with the amount of male we'll have here, if it's anything else than the cold, they will probably be glad to save your ass ehe.

Mortimer wasn't impressed by Nhielings cadish behavior or Ayra's galavanting around mostly nude either. Right now they were being wheeled into a situation in which they were GROSSELY underprepaired and most likely going to die. Just as he was thinking these thoughts their transport was opened and a shouting man in a wide brimmed hat and a short green suit was yelling at all of them to quote "getoutofthatgoddamntransportyoumakescausenobody'sgonnawipeyersorrylittleassesherenowpayattentionandlineupforimmediateinspectionanddeploymentIsaidmoveitmoveitmoveit!"

It may have been difficult to understand but the general message was to line up and be inspected... most likely for their most suitable places in the upcoming slaughter.

Standing in their single file line of death, several men passed among the rank and file columns of draftee's waving metal wands and scanning discs, at regular intervals shouting where a trooper should go. Frontline, air support, behind the wall, naval station, it didn't matter because in the grand scheme of things all had an equally high mortality rate.