Macaroth carefully chanted and gestured over the pool of quicksilver as it rippled and swirled in its pool. His vision passed to the animate metal and it worked magically to bring that vision to life as the master demanded. A smile crossed his face as he imagined the untold destruction his construct would wreak upon everybody who opposed his will. She would be his masterpiece, his newest pride and newest terror.

Outside the people worked even harder than anticipated, spurred by their fears they made and armed two hundred sets of arms and armor and as many capable men were armed and being trained by the deserter soldiers and guards who flocked to Macaroths congregation. They too will make a formidable force in their own right, complimented by His Sons from above, they too received plate armors for their chest and back, they wore long metal vambraces and gauntlets, the women made sturdy long cloth skirts to allow them mobility if forced to the ground and they were given a new weapon as well, the Crossbow, now they were three times as dangerous as they were before, and in their polished armors they were fearsome to behold indeed. 

So their preparations went on as their Saint advised, slowly however his sapping took a toll on those who were there longest as they begun dying in their sleep, the people blamed the red sun for that and were made even more zelaous as Macaroths power grew ever more.