Name’s Phlar Magnus.
Don’t ask me how to spell it proper — I got lucky once and just stuck with it. I lead The Xth Legion. Not ‘cause I’m smartest, no. I tried that once. Hurt my head for three days. No, I lead ‘cause when the shouting starts and the arrows fly, I’m the biggest wall of metal between my lads and the pointy bits. That’s leadership, right there.

I carry a big mace. It’s called Brainbreaker, though mostly it breaks other people’s brains, not mine. Mine’s already… well, you know. I also got a shield. Round, heavy, makes a fine table for lunch if we ain’t fighting. Sometimes both at once.

Folk say Phlar don’t think before he swings. Wrong. I do think. I think, “Is that enemy?” Then I swing. See? Thought first. Then action. Perfect balance.

The Xth Legion follows me ‘cause I never run. Not even when the smart ones say, “Phlar, it’s a trap!” All fights are traps if you think about it. But if you hit hard enough, the trap breaks before you do. That’s my strategy.

They call me “the Shield of Fools” — I think it’s a compliment. My lads laugh when they say it, so must be good. We fight for honor, for glory, and for the tavern after. Mostly the tavern after.

If you need someone to plan a war, find a scholar. If you need someone to win a war, find me. I’ll be the loud one in the front, yelling “FOR THE XTH!” and probably forgetting why we started fighting in the first place.