A part of the Centurion felt the pressure, but the vast majority of his being reminded itself of the fact that he chose this life. Vengeance was rarely a comfortable or safe path, and he had no need of such luxuries either, not with what his life had become. With a shake of his head, he spoke up. "I need fifty of my men transported to perches from which they can fire down upon the enemy. When their rounds make contact and detonate, they will cast up plumes of sand. Confused, unable to see and taking constant losses which will test the resolve of any man, they will be entirely ignorant of how many of us there really are." The primary objective could afford to wait, the Emir had to be protected from the incoming force. "When the enemy finally arrive where they believe us to be making our stand, they will find nothing. They will be mowed down by foes unseen, trapped in the descent of the Wadi with swirling sand around them. Without their proper senses, the warcries of my men will seem like thousands. I'll be the lure if your men are hesitant. A scorpion should have no trouble concealing itself in the sand." Spending only a second to deftly put his helmet in place to show readiness, Seth snapped his attention to the Emir again. "My presence here is no mere coincidence, I will break the army coming after you. I know I can. You will have not just your throne again, but a victory that history will remember." Perhaps more than even the Emir, Seth wanted this victory. And that was good, because it meant he would hold nothing back in the pursuit of glory. He looked ready, and so did all of the men he arrived with. The Emir could hold his forces back until the opportunity to flank or spring an ambush presented itself. Seth did not mention this, because he believed it to be an obvious implication behind everything he'd just stated. Still, the decision did not rest with him, so he could only watch with the singular eye represented by his visor and wait for an answer.