Tension in the air

 Kaleb's courage was unwavering as he looks Jareth dead in the eyes, his next words were… shocking to say the least.

"Tell them to move."

Jareth raised a brow.

"What?'

"I said, get your damn lackeys to move, now!" he demanded again, his tone carrying the slightest edge that sparked further fury in Jareth.

The veins on his forehead bulged and pulsed rapidly, until his last string of composure snapped.

Without the slightest utterance, his hand hot out, and the ring on his finger pulsed with a faint light; a moment later, a double-headed war hammer materialized and fell into his grasp, his fingers curling around the ridges carved into its metallic surface. He gripped the spiraled shaft, the weapon adding to his already imposing figure, and it began radiating mana with a bright white color that seemed to ripple along its length.