General Callun started to look for the hopeless. His recruitment efforts didn't target the brave or the passionate ones. He did not intend to find the devoted, patriotic people. Nor he was looking for the experienced, the fulfilled ones. He wanted to find the wrecked, lost people, the desperate who wanted to, at all costs, end their and their family's suffering, but with no course of action. The general was once again on his feet after so many years of disease and pain due to the lost battle, the one that let the army that was marching towards Tiria to do so. And for this he was preparing, for this he was gathering the desperate. He built into them the hope they lacked and he inspired them to believe him. As he had done, he forged an army of empty heads filled with his image. That alienated group was his tool and he worked hard to train them all into precise warriors that were passionate not about their nation, but their leader. He nourished them with a reason to fight that would be talking to them in a language they could listen in the very literal form. Time was his most abundant resource: it wasn't endless, but renewable. There was no hustle. Slowly, he created an army: the Ablerenean Legion, made up entirely of people who believed there was not a single soul in the battlefield but Callun's.
It was shortly after he established his power and influence again to the point it was before the Gray Rift War, when he was ahead of his past Legion, the most respected men in all of Tiria, that the general argued with Olar. The blue mage had ethics and did not share the redhead Callun's view that in war everything is allowed, that the effect of such measures reasoned the means he chose. "This is an army of barbarians. A walk towards the past. Tirians deserve the gold, not this that you offer", he said in serene anger as his blue hair started hovering over his shoulders and steam permeated his clothes. With sparkling blue eyes, he told the general that he should not expect his friendship anymore, but that he would be there in the battlefield by his side, with all of his troops, fighting with the Legion until they exhausted the utmost capacity of their magic. Only Alerina the Chaste, however, was attentive enough to see how Olar's hair levitated, how his clothes emanated a certain amount of what she assumed was smoke and how his eyes burnt in a dark ocean blue. And not frightened, the small daughter of Official Alerina let a laugh slip, amused by the old man's magical temper. The adorable giggle shed light inside of the tent and softened Callun's expression so much that Olar could only turn his back to both, exiting the tent and letting it between Alerina the Chaste and the redhead. He walked to the girl and caressed her hair, looking at the small hands. Although that occasion was the end of an important friendship that shaped the future of the Tirian defense's strategy, it set the moment when the general took Alerina the Chaste as his apprentice and forever changed her future from the silly musician she would've become to the talented archer that would fire the most important arrow in Tiria's history.