Preparations
Jul 3, 2011 2:41:10 GMT -6
Post by Leontius on Jul 3, 2011 2:41:10 GMT -6
Leon frowned at the... speed with which the two men had accepted his offer. He was disappointed to be specific. He would have wished that the two of them had taken more time to consider his proposal, however he supposed that he hadn't done justice to the job description. There was actually quite a lot to consider in taking up this duty. First of all, they were preventing a people from reclaiming their home, they were killing their right to be free. then there was the high risk of death. The Bernese forces had always been ruthless, who's to say their citizenry was any less brutal. And then there was the prospect of fighting women and children. If the rebels were desperate enough, the unfit to fight might start joining the revolutionary ranks. Could these two men live with killing the defenseless? And then there was Ilia itself. Sure, Etruria had corruption flowing throughout its entire body. But, who's to say that Ilia was any less corrupt? The entire war against the Prophet could be just a way for Ilia to assimilate a defeated Etruria into their ranks. Today's allies are tomorrow's enemies. And what then? Who could hope to stop Ilia after that? The subservient, morale-less Bern? Ostia, the smoldering wreck that once stood as the center of Lycia? Or perhaps Etruria, the conquered nation of volatile religious figures. Maybe the savage Sacaen tribes would try to put up a fight. Yes, the people who wouldn't unite if even the entire nation was at stake, would stand as a mighty foe against Ilia. Leon, the cautious, if not paranoid, man he was, had already considered this. Perhaps that was why he hadn't been in depth with the job description. He'd already known what was at stake, what they were up against, and he had already come to a decision. If keeping his family safe required raising all of Bern and the slaughtering of every man, woman, and child in Bern, then he would do it.
That was just it. The men before him, this Nathaniel and this Alecros, they needed to be ready to go into hell itself, and they needed to be able to live with whatever possible consequences there were from siding with Ilia. "Perhaps." Leon began, his face was devoid of any expression, save seriousness. He rested his hand on the hilt of his iron sword. He was standing straight forward, as a commander, who was surveying the remains of a bloody, corpse-filled battlefield, would. "I have not properly described the task you are taking up. This job is not to be taken lightly. I don't expect all of my company, the stubborn hound mercenaries, to survive this rebellion. Barring a miracle by Elimine, I don't expect any of them, not even myself, to come from this job without scars. Scars of the body or scars of the mind." Leon said coolly, his single unblinking, unmoving, orange eye, stared out into the forsaken tundra. "The Bernese patriots are ready to do anything. Anything." He said slowly, trying to accentuate the desperation of the rebels. "So long as their homeland is returned to them. They will not just hide and wait for us in their homes, but they are also ready to deceive and kill us with their young. You must be ready to do anything, kill or be killed. And even should you be ready for all of that, then you are still crushing a people's desires, the entire hopes of a nation will be lost when this is over. They will be subservient to Ilia, not slaves, but little more then second-class citizens." There was a break in the light-blue haired mercs words, as if he was recoiling from the swinging of a hammer of inhuman proportions. "And even should Ilia win, and go on to end the reign of the Prophet, then what is to become of Ilia? Can the bitter land of mercenaries truly be free of corruption, be nation of virtue? Who is to say that Ilia will not start the next major war on Elibe? Who is to say that they won't use the momentum gained in this war to do so?"
Leon's warmonger-like trance faded and he looked at Nathaniel and then Alecros. "Now, with these thoughts fresh, and heavy in your mind, are you still intent on joining me in my quest?" This was something of an old tactic Ilian mercenary commanders would use on new recruits in order to test just how committed they were to earning their keep. Apply it to outsiders and you can generally get the same results. However, most commanders with-held the truth of the matter from fresh boots, Leon wasn't.
That was just it. The men before him, this Nathaniel and this Alecros, they needed to be ready to go into hell itself, and they needed to be able to live with whatever possible consequences there were from siding with Ilia. "Perhaps." Leon began, his face was devoid of any expression, save seriousness. He rested his hand on the hilt of his iron sword. He was standing straight forward, as a commander, who was surveying the remains of a bloody, corpse-filled battlefield, would. "I have not properly described the task you are taking up. This job is not to be taken lightly. I don't expect all of my company, the stubborn hound mercenaries, to survive this rebellion. Barring a miracle by Elimine, I don't expect any of them, not even myself, to come from this job without scars. Scars of the body or scars of the mind." Leon said coolly, his single unblinking, unmoving, orange eye, stared out into the forsaken tundra. "The Bernese patriots are ready to do anything. Anything." He said slowly, trying to accentuate the desperation of the rebels. "So long as their homeland is returned to them. They will not just hide and wait for us in their homes, but they are also ready to deceive and kill us with their young. You must be ready to do anything, kill or be killed. And even should you be ready for all of that, then you are still crushing a people's desires, the entire hopes of a nation will be lost when this is over. They will be subservient to Ilia, not slaves, but little more then second-class citizens." There was a break in the light-blue haired mercs words, as if he was recoiling from the swinging of a hammer of inhuman proportions. "And even should Ilia win, and go on to end the reign of the Prophet, then what is to become of Ilia? Can the bitter land of mercenaries truly be free of corruption, be nation of virtue? Who is to say that Ilia will not start the next major war on Elibe? Who is to say that they won't use the momentum gained in this war to do so?"
Leon's warmonger-like trance faded and he looked at Nathaniel and then Alecros. "Now, with these thoughts fresh, and heavy in your mind, are you still intent on joining me in my quest?" This was something of an old tactic Ilian mercenary commanders would use on new recruits in order to test just how committed they were to earning their keep. Apply it to outsiders and you can generally get the same results. However, most commanders with-held the truth of the matter from fresh boots, Leon wasn't.