From the fires of conflict we are forged, and by shared bloodshed are we bound, to combat the evils that surround us all, as no light can be found. But in the dark abyss, there is a shimmering spot, for we are the Order of Sterling, the few of might.  At the gates of Hell do we stand, sounding our war horns to all, announcing that now, we fight as one against them. That no longer shall we stand by and let those of vile intent plague our world. That no man, woman or child need fear the darkness of night, for Sterling is there, to bring them light.

Bjorke looked down at the village below, smoke billowing from the roofs, bodies littering the fields. The marauders had fallen back for the time being, but they would return. There was not much time, if they were to be stopped. She nodded to Edrick, and he drew his war horn, filled his lungs, and sounded the Call to Arms.

Soon, they were joined by the Guards of Sterling: Reid, Avatarak, and Sorowyn; and by their loyal members, among them, Korganus, Razorwyn, Erilea, and Arsonite. The battle plan was laid out, each Sterling prepared to fight.

The word given, and a greaty roar filled the valley! Mighty Sterling fighters wielded their weapons, or hurled bolts of lightning towards their foes. The clang of armor, the thunder of hoofbeats, the crack of air as they attacked: these sounds filled the villagers with hope. From the least of them, to the most battle-hardened, they fought as one, a force greater than any had known before. Fallen and bloody, beaten back and defeated, the marauders fled, once and for all time. Never again would they harm another.

Honor and Justice had prevailed. Hope restored to the hopeless; help for the helpless; honor restored to the deserving. Sterling had traveled farther down the path to Glory, earning the respect of those they helped along the way.