Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Oct 30, 2011 20:36:20 GMT -6
Leontius wiped a conglomeration of sweat from his forehead, staining his already sweat-covered gauntlet. The commander was standing upright, as if he were at attention, surveying the sparring grounds. In the days since the Deputy commander's departure, Leontius had taken up the role of a drill sergeant, something he was very much acquainted with. He proved his worth rather quickly, keeping the soldiers attentive and ready, despite the warm, lazy environment. The plains of Sacae were like a siren's den. The peaceful winds and rolling grass put one at ease, relaxed their guard, and made them forget. The setting sun of Sacae had the power to enthrall men with its beauty. But, beneath these visions of respite, lurked the ever vigilant and ever xenophobic tribes of the plains. They were snakes in the grass, prepared to leap upon whatever they saw as a threat.
The commander had taken recently finished his own bout of combat before the grunts started wailing at each other. With Gate at his side, he'd fought two soldiers and myrmidon. To his disappointment, the weakest of them, being the myrmidon, tried to hold off Leontius, while the others tried to knock Gate out of the picture. Gate, despite wielding a staff, was far from being a pushover. The man had decent speed and good pair of eyes on him. They weren't anything out of the ordinary, but they served him well. What stood out about him was that he held an uncharacteristically great strength and a high pain-tolerance. He once struck a man so hard, with his staff, that the blow knocked him out cold. Leontius reasoned that his opponents believed they could wound Gate before Leontius could wound their "weak link". Leontius abhorred these kinds of tactics. Sacrificing one's team-mate in hopes of gaining the upper hand was a deplorable tactic. Leontius was not naive, he was perfectly aware that sacrifices needed to be made in war. Not a single war had ever been won with a zero percent casualty rating. But, there was a difference between placing men on the front lines and throwing one into the lion's den. Naturally, no sooner had Leontius dispatched the myrmidon did the two soldiers land a hit upon Gate. While their tactic worked, in that Gate was taken out of the picture, The soldiers were not ready for Leontius' counterattack. He managed to land a blow upon one of the two soldiers, taking him out of the picture, and from then on, it was downhill for the other soldier. After being healed, their tactic was repeated, with much the same results. Afterwards however, they switched places and the roles were now reversed. While Leontius was pushed to his limit, it was through sheer skill that he managed to wound one of the soldiers, before receiving a blow himself. At that point, Gate had won his own fight and quickly dispatched the other soldier. While Leontius was disappointed that the trio had left the weak member to fight on his own each time, he was happy to see some progress in their tactics. However, by the end of the third bout, the trio was too tired to continue fighting. So, Leontius dismissed them and went on to supervise the other matches.
The soldiers were beginning to tire themselves out, their footing was sloppy and their attacks and parry's were delayed. They'd had enough, the secession was over for today. The commander took a step forward and raised his voice. "Enough, weapons down." He barked briefly. The tired Illians stopped their strikes just short of connecting, and quickly assumed attentive stances. "Dismissed." The commander swirled about, and took a few steps in the opposite direction. "Gate, Come with me."
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Nov 22, 2011 21:01:03 GMT -6
"What's your assessment Gate?" The commander gasped, more then asked, of his second. The middle-aged commander had put up a proper, respectable front for the troops. He kept things professional, kept them at a distance, he felt that befitting of his role. But, he was tired, the harsh sun beat heavily upon him, making training secessions exhausting.
"Well"The massive troubadour panted. "They're certainly a hardened lot. The trio we fought back there was a determined group. I hardly approve of their tactics though, they proved very ineffective. Hell, they'd have gotten themselves slaughtered if they'd use said tactics out on the battlefield. I'm nitpicking though, the blade work, footwork, and endurance they've displayed is exceptional." The troubadour paused, taking a moment to stroke his chin. "However, I do get the feeling that they aren't putting their all into these training secessions. I believe they are affected by the absence of the Commander and Deputy Commander. I can hardly blame them, I've heard Richter is quite the leader. Some of these men have been with him for more then three years."
"Three years...."He muttered. "I'm not sure if that's accurate. Well, however long ago that massacre at the Etrurian outpost in Sacae was."
So, Gate had noticed it too. Leontius had gleamed that the troops were despirited, slacking. The moment he'd met the Deputy commander, the army had been performing in an efficient, organized manner. While he'd only seen this work ethic briefly, he'd kept it in the back of his mind, so that he would know what the Illian regulars expected from. But, that was the only time in which they'd worked so vigorously, so efficiently. After Feldsky had left, the soldier's enthusiasm had died. They were still functioning of course, Bennings did a fine job of keeping the weakening war machine from falling apart, but that was just it. It WAS falling apart, the soldier's were becoming lazy, and this prospect frightened the commander.
"That sounds accurate." He noted. "Indeed, I didn't expect those two soldiers to get the better of me. Not that I'm singing their praises, there is room for improvement in their fighting styles. A lot of room." Leontius caught his second suppressing a chuckle. He probably found something about his commander's bluntness amusing. The commander, annoyed, narrowed his good eye. "They had lances, they should have been able to land a hit on me much earlier. I expect better conduct in terms of fighting and tactic in the warriors I am to serve with." And there he stopped.
A few moments passed before Gate realized that his overseer had finished. "Is that all, sir?"
No, that wasn't all that Leontius had to say, in fact he had quite a mouthful to say regarding Bern, but it was all very negative. Being above Gate in terms of rank, he was not allowed to voice those opinions. As familiar as he was with the troubadour, he had a duty to keep appearances up and a greater duty to prevent the endangering of this campaign. "Indeed it is Gate."
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Nov 23, 2011 19:43:56 GMT -6
"Hm. Alright, then." The large troubadour replied with a somewhat confused look. It wasn't like the commander to keep things from Gate. The troubadour was his second in command, his confidant. There was little that he with-held from him. And, Leontius would have preferred to keep it that way, but the times demanded he meet other obligations first. And he had vowed to keep those obligations.
The pair continued walking in silence for some time. The commander was staring off into space, his gaze falling upon the only present scenery, the long, rolling, grassy plains. It was so lethargic. Dull, plain, did anything ever happen in this land? It was peaceful, but it was too peaceful. There was nothing that really jumped out or threatened a passerby. Ilia was more convenient. Danger was always present, staring you in the face. Here, however, if there was some creature lurking in the tall grass, there was little you could do to prepare yourself for it. The commander rubbed is temples. No, no that wasn't true, it would just be more difficult to maintain discipline and a watchfulness that noticed such camouflaged dangers. The commander squinted, annoyed. This land would be the death of him. He craned his neck slightly, getting a proper view of Gate. His right-hand seemed to be lost within his own thoughts as well. He stared out into the rolling plains, but he bore a look of appreciation and admiration, manifested within a pair of relaxed eyes and a faint smile. No doubt he was talking in the atmosphere of the setting, enjoying the beauty of it all rather then acknowledging the threat it posed. The second took notice of his commander.
"Sir?" The large troubadour asked. Leontius shook off a disapproving viasge, replacing it with one of indifference. "Sparring later, Gate? I could use the exercise." The troubadour grinned briefly, probably amused by his commander's back-breaking dedication. "I'm sure. Just so long as you use the practice sword, I can't exactly use this staff on myself." He said, rattling the holy piece of wood. "And I'd rather not use up vulneraries unnecessarily." The commander nodded in affirmation. "Agreed."
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Nov 26, 2011 9:36:15 GMT -6
The pair of mercenaries continued walking for some time, discussing subjects of minimal importance. Recently had it occured to him that he'd seen hide nor hair of Alecros or that golden-haired Nabatan. The commander almost asked his second if he'd seen the pirate, but he felt he already knew the answer. He wasn't here, in the camp or even Sacae. What in the blazes had possessed him to hire that scoundrel? The damn pirate probably jumped ship somewhere back at the Sacae-Ilia border. Probably. He'd not only saved the life of a murderous thug, but he'd also given him transport out of Ilia, where the snow and ice could have ended the blight known as his life. But no, the commander had lead him out of Ilia, and now that dangerous brute was no doubt pillaging some nameless village in what was left of the Lycian league. Next time he hired expendable bodies, he'd pick someone more likely to meet their contract halfway.
The commander took a gloved hand, bringing it up to his forehead and slicking back his light-blue hair. Damnit. It wasn't just the fact that the brigand hadn't met his contract, it was the fact that he was a brigand. His duty was to the well-being of his family, and to that end, it included the elimination of any and every threat. Big or small, foreign or domestic, withdrawn or in plain sight. He had a duty! For Elimine's sake he should have just jammed a sword in the axe-wielder's skull, spared himself this brow-beating, this self-inflicted humiliation, this this..... shame. That was part of it, wasn't it? The battle-hardened commander had seen hundreds of civilians massacred, he'd even watched his own men have their throats slit at the hands of ruthless brigands. He was VERY acquainted with the horrors that men could do. And yet, for some reason, he'd granted this wretch freedom. Freedom to kill another day.
How Foolish.
"Commander!" Gate said. He'd raised his voice slightly. "Wh, what is it Gate?" The commander asked in an aggravated tone. The troubadour arched his eyebrows, clearly annoyed by Leontius' unnecessarily curt response. "You weren't responding sir, it was disconcerting." Leontius stared at his second with a raised eyebrow, bothered that he hadn't answered his question. "What. is it. Gate?" The commander said, his tone was much more stern. The troubadour breathed through his nose and exhaled, clearing his head. "There's something up in the air, off in the distance. It's a little white speck, but it's growing larger. I believe it's a pegasus knight." The commander craned his neck to get a view of the dot in the sky. "Your eye is better then either of mine, I figured you'd be able to discern whoever, or whatever, it is." Leontius peered up into the sky, but there was little he could make out. It was a pegasus, definitely, and there was a rider atop the winged-horse. But he couldn't tell who the rider was. She had blonde hair, and what looked like white, light armor."It is a pegasus, but..." The commander paused, vainly trying to pick out a helpful detail. "She's just too far away." He shook his head, letting it fall from it's perch. "No matter, it appears our mysterious rider is making her way to us. Look, she descends." Leontius' head shot back up. Indeed, Gate was telling the truth. The knight's mount plunged through the sky, the rays of the sun at its back.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Nov 26, 2011 22:03:42 GMT -6
The pegasus knight approached the duo rapidly, sinking beneath the beams of the sun. In an instant, the glare from the brilliant orb in the sky became too great, and the commander had to shield his eye. He brought up his gauntlet, just above his left eye. He grunted in agitation. Spectacular. He'd have to wait until she reached the grassy earth.
"Commander!" A familiar voice shouted. The tone was feminine, lady-like. He recognized it immediately. It was that of Clarissa's, his company's pegasus rider. Clarissa had been one the soldiers conscripted into the scouting division shortly after Feldsky's departure. Something necessity dictated. Regardless, it was a fine use of her talents as both a pegasus rider and a soldier. He anticipated her continued service as a scout even after the Deputy commander's return.
With Leontius' previous question answered, another one rose in it's place. What was Clarissa doing here? She had duties to square away, did she not? He was anxious to know the rider's intent.
"Clarissa!" The commander barked while rubbing his good eye. "Report, what are you doing here?" The pegasus knight slid from her mount, her long, curly blonde hair swaying in the wind. She quickly stood at attention, snapping a quick salute. "Right away sir. It's one of our scouting parties commander." The commander cocked his head, curiously. "They were on a routine recon mission, just checking out the local tribes, when they were ambushed by a few of the tribesman..." The commander's eyes flared, his placid expression quickly soured. "What?!" He barked. "Sir, there's more. The party escaped the Sacaen trap with zero casualties." The commander's spirits rose momentarily, only to be dashed by the rider's next remark. "The same cannot be said for the Sacaens. I don't know specifics sir, but rumor has it the recon team left behind five plus bodies." The light faded from Leontius' eyes. The commander stared at her for a few moments. He swiveled about face and began pacing. "That's bad Clarissa. Very bad." The rider responded with a heavy exhale. "I know, sir, and so does Bennings." Leontius' eyes perked up. Ah, so the Lt. had dispatched her to find him. Smart. "I'm assuming he'd like to see me, then?" She nodded. "In the war room, sir." The commander placed his hands behind his back, folding them together. "I understand, thank you Clarissa." Clarissa nodded again and mounted her pegasus. The commander shot her a disapproving look. "I didn't say dismissed, soldier!" She looked back at her commander, somewhat shocked. He wasn't usually harsh on his soldiers like this, they usually worked independent jobs. Not this time. "O.. ah, sorry Commander. "Don't BE sorry, just don't do it." He replied sternly.
The gears in his head were turning. He turned to meet the gaze of his bulky companion. "Gate." He barked to his second, who'd stood silent during the entire exchange. "Gather the company before sunset and meet at my quarters. I've plans." He said with a smirk. Gate smiled. "No sparring then, commander?" He sounded amused. "Not today Gate. Clarissa, give him a hand." And with that, the commander started making his way to the CO's tent.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Nov 28, 2011 21:00:21 GMT -6
A soft breeze whistled past the commander as he arrived at the CO's tent. It wasn't that much different then the others. The only distinguishing aspects were its comparably larger size to the other tents, a planted flag bearing the crest of Ilia, and a pair of knights guarding the entrance.
"Sergeant Leontius?" One of the knights asked, fishing for the merc's identity.
"I am him." The commander stood with his hands folded behind his back, his chin up, and his posture straight.
"The Lieutenant's been waiting for you." The knight pulled one of the tent's flaps to the side, ushering the commander inside.
"I am aware." He moved forward, raising his own hand to move the other flap aside.
The interior of the tent was a little more decorated then the exterior. There was a makeshift bed in the form of what the commander expected to be a leaf-filled blanket and grass-filled pillow. In the right corner was a desk, with numerous battle plans, reports, and other various military documents cluttered about. The tent, in addition to being supported by a series of stakes outside, had two wooden support beams fastened to the ground. Attached to each beam was a brightly burning torch, which gave a much needed light into the otherwise dark makeshift command post.
In the center of the tent was a table populated alone by six adjacent chairs, and a map of Sacae. There were a few ink markings on the map, signifying the location of the Ilian encampment, the Sacaen tribe's outpost, and a few potential routes into Bern. Five of the six chairs were filled, however Leontius only recognized two of the officers. They were Lieutenant Bennings, his temporary CO, and Staff Sergeant Burns. Burns was a character whom Leontius had made an acquaintance with through his duties as drill sergeant. Burns was a big man, slightly larger then Gate, with what could only be described as commanding facial hair. He had a goatee, but he kept it well groomed. It wasn't fuzzy, he didn't allow his own hair to step out of line, but it also filled out. His goatee reflected how he kept his men, every inch of hair was placed in a harmonious, attentive order. Not a single follicle appeared to be out of place. Burns was an alert and generally even-tempered man with bouts of rage few and far between. In a way he reflected the opposite side of Bennings. While Bennings was a calm man who preferred to command with an aura of unspoken authority, Burns was a very outspoken officer who maintained a hawk-like watch of his troops, so that they might be conditioned to stay in line.
The lieutenant, who had been hunched over the table, lifted his head "Ah, Leontius." He addressed the commander.
"Sir!" Leontius barked, fashioning off a salute as he stood at attention.
"At ease sergeant. Take a seat." He ordered.
Sergeant, it felt odd to be called by a different rank. He'd been going by the name of commander for the last twelve years or so, and some of the Stubborn Hound's still called him by his mercenary title. He didn't have anything against the title though. In fact he'd find the title commander undeserving in an outfit like this. He'd never served in force larger then fourteen men, he didn't have the required experience to lead such numbers.
"I assume your pegasus knight gave you the details." The lieutenant said, lowering his head.
"That's correct sir." The merc commander quickly retorted.
The lieutenant jerked his head back up, his mouth slightly open. He took a deep breath, seemingly annoyed. Had the commander offended him? "Don't call me sir. Lieutenant or just Bennings work fine, but the word sir irks me. Understood?" He stated, uncharacteristically forcefully.
The commander, despite feeling rather bewildered maintained a stone expression. "Understood, Lieutenant."
"Thank you." The lieutenant responded, sinking into his own seat. "I'd prefer to introduce you to the other officers, however I'm afraid we're too pressed for time." He paused, bringing his hands together. "Lets get down to business."
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Nov 30, 2011 19:56:29 GMT -6
"I had hoped to keep conflict, even contact, with the nearby Sacaen tribe to a minimum, but I'm afraid that's all it was, hope." He sighed, shaking his head. "As you all know, out of concern, I approved the reconnaissance of the local Sacaen tribe. Yesterday, while surveying their settlement, the larger portion of Sgt. Golding's," He said waving at a fierce-some looking woman, who was probably in her late-twenties and had the look of a woman who'd seen her share of combat. " was captured. Fortunately, she and a newly appointed scout, Valcrist, were able to surprise the Sacaen captors, free her soldiers, and dispatch said captors" A quirky smile spread across his lips "with her team sustaining zero casualties. And, while I commend her on her efforts, the status quo remains that we have spilled their blood on their soil, and I can bet my life that they will want our blood in return. They may already be mobilizing. Reports have declared Valcrist MIA since yesterday. I've fought the Sacaens before and while I've never seen them react with such speed and organization, we can't rule at the fact that they're responsible for his capture."
The Lieutenant paused, allowing his words to sink in. "I'm currently taking the necessary precautions to defend against any potential raids, which brings me to why I've called you all here. Burns, Thompson, Golding, and Leontius, I am tasking you all with defending base camp. I've already instructed the soldiers to set up a barricade with the wooden pikes we have in storage. As you all know, the preferred Sacaen style of fighting is with a bow atop a mount. The Lieutenant directed his attention towards Leontius. "Sergeant, The commander's ears perked up, he sat up straight, and devoted his attention to the Lieutenant. "I want you to be in charge of that." He smiled. "From what the reports say, you're quite the intimidating figure among the troops."
"I'd say that's fairly accurate." The commander replied pridefully.
"Good. Do whatever you have to Sergeant, but make sure those barricades are in place before sundown." He ordered with a congenial expression. He then turned his attention to the fierce looking woman, and a rather cocky looking woman. "Sergeant Golding and Scout leader Thompson. I want you two to deploy your soldiers around the camp, keep a lookout for any raiding parties or recon teams." The fierce woman nodded, while the cocky one more or less playfully shrugged.
Bennings then shifted his attention to Staff Sergeant Burns."Burns, in the event that they do attack, I want our cavalry and armor knights prepared. I trust you can take care of that."
"It shall be done, Lieutenant." Burns spoke up. His voice was heavy and deep.
The Lieutenant smiled and turned to the only officer whom he'd yet to address. "Second Lieutenant Avien." He began. "I have a slightly different task for you." The Lieutenant appeared visibly anxious. Beads of sweat were beginning to form at his head. Leontius had gleamed that he was struggling with the duties of maintaining and leading the army, but it now seemed as if something else was bothering him. "I want you to take command in my absence."
"Bennings?" The slim Second Lieutenant replied.
"It's a risky endeavor, but I'm going to arrange negotiations with the leader of these Sacaens. I'll be departing with a personal guard tomorrow." At the mention of this, the officers glued their eyes on Bennings. Everyone bore an expression of shock and bewilderment. Everyone except for Leontius and Avien. It made the commander raise an eyebrow, but nothing more.
The Lieutenant didn't give his subordinates a chance to respond. "I know. I know what you're all thinking. But, if there's any chance of avoiding bloodshed on our side, then I'm willing to take it. Now, with that said, you're all dismi-" The Lieutenant was suddenly cut off by Sgt. Burns.
"Lieutenant, I understand what you're doing, but think rationally about this. We're dealing with Sacaens, you're practically handing yourself over to them as a hostage. The main front cannot afford the loss of another leader. Troop morale has been hurt enough already." He shouted. Leontius respected the Sgt's judgement, but he was out of line. He was questioning his command in front of the other top ranking officers. Well, he was questioning his ability in front of the Scout Leader and Second Lieutenant, Leontius and Golding were hardly high-ranking.
Bennings seemed to be taken aback by the abrasiveness of his own subordinate. Surely he'd anticipated dissent, but nothing so bold.
At this moment, the second Lieutenant chimed in. "Burns, restrain yourself. You're out of line." She commanded harshly. The angered Burns backed down, unwillingly though. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I believe that we owe the Lieutenant a little more credit. He was appointed by Deputy Commander after all. She placed her trust in him. I don't suppose any of you believe that that was a mistake on her part?" She demanded. A hush settled across the war room, none of the officers dared to open their mouths. The second Lieutenant broke the uncomfortable silence. "I didn't think so." She sat back down, returning the floor to Bennings.
A respectable tactic, the commander thought. Using the Deputy Commander as a shield for the inexperienced Bennings. There was hardly a soldier in the army who would disgrace the good name of Clair Feldsky.
Bennings had an expression of appreciation, but before he had a chance to conclude the meeting, Leontius had something to say. He rose from his seat, receiving a glare from the Second and First Lieutenants."I stand not to oppose you Bennings." He assured the Lieutenant. "But to offer my services. As you said, traveling to the Sacaen settlement will be dangerous. I would feel more at ease if you let me accompany you. If not me, then Burns, but a combat veteran with a wealth of experience managing small forces should serve as your bodyguard."
Bennings smiled, approving of the mercenary's suggestion. "Very well Leontius. since you suggested it, have your company ready to move out by early morning tomorrow and those barricades up before sunset." And with that, the council was concluded.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Dec 3, 2011 14:48:13 GMT -6
The various officers rose from their seats and begin to exit. The first among them was Leontius, who was eager to get to his duties. Despite all of this looming danger, the commander was somewhat glad. No, he wasn't glad despite the danger, he was glad because of it. The soldiers needed something that would whip them back into shape. They needed a threat, something that would pierce their faux veil of security. Something that would make them anxious, concerned, scared even. The Sacaens were that threat, they were the answer.
And if the troops did not heed this warning, this imminent danger, then Leontius would make them. His safety, their safety, would not be compromised by sloth. He would make sure of that.
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It did not take him long, Leontius reached his own tent in a matter of minutes. Gate had rallied the other mercenaries, as he'd expected. A sense of pride swelled within the commander as he gazed upon his mercenaries. In the midst of all the laziness and peacefulness, his men were as dutiful as always. He had relayed Gate his orders and Gate in turn had ordered them and they had obeyed his orders without delay. They were ready, ready to act, ready to follow orders, ready to follow him into battle. Always. These soldiers, his soldiers, were ever vigilent.
"Leon!" Whitney, one of his mages and a long-time partner, gleefully shouted as she threw her arms around the commander. It wasn't just her arms, the bright-smiled girl had locked her legs around his waist. Ill-prepared for this jump of a hug, Leontius staggered back a bit, almost losing his balance.
"Ah, Whitney. Get off of me!" The commander's sounded a little annoyed.
As quickly as she'd leapt upon him, Whitney was off. She stepped back a bit before leaning into the commander. She looked at him with a pair of wide eyes and an inquisitive expression. "That's hardly a polite response Leon. Don't you have any manners?" She cocked her head, as if expecting a legitimate answer from the commander. "I thought you'd be happier to see me."
She was messing with him. The commander was fully aware of that, and he didn't appreciate it. He'd endured this before, words wouldn't reach the energetic girl, only silence could. So, he just stared at her with a humorless expression.
"Weeeeeell?" He just kept staring at her. She frowned, and started to lean back. A sullen look spread out across her cheerful face. "You're no fun commander!" She pouted.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Dec 7, 2011 15:51:18 GMT -6
The commander scowled, annoyed by Whitney's lax attitude. He was about to reprimand her when he realized that she wasn't the only one of his subordinates acting so casually. In fact, all of them were milling about, blissfully unaware of the commander's presence. Addison and Alric, the archer and swordsman siblings, were poking fun at each other in a very brother-sister type fashion. Jim was holding Clarissa's head close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. Radford, his one and only cavalier, was catching up on the sleep his insomnia naturally deprived him of. Aragog was sitting, hunched over, and entertaining a smiley, attentive Karen. And Gate, he didn't even see Gate. What, had his second found it prudent to abandon any form of military discipline among the troops by removing his presence? Almost none of his mercenaries had acknowledged his presence, and the one that did wasn't taking him seriously. The commander grew red in the face. He bit his lower lip in frustration. The very mercenaries he'd just placed above the other foot-soldiers were not living up to his expectations. They were living very much below them. He was on the verge of shouting his ass off. But, he merely sighed, regaining control of himself. No, getting angry was hardly a useful solution. He needed to act with sternness and strictness, but not visible anger. An emotional commander was a flawed commander, exercising one's ire too frequently banalized rage. The commander kept a firm, suppressive grip on his anger. He'd simply remind these soldiers of who they were serving.
Whitney, who was watching the commander, expressed her concern. "Leon?" Her voice had an inquisitive and compassionate tone. She'd likely caught on to his signs of anger. What a woman she was. She rivaled Leontius in terms of age and yet, she acted like a child most of the time. Then, she'd turn around and shows signs of care or sympathy, swapping personas almost entirely. Hers was a perplexing character. What a woman she was.
The commander looked at her with a half-open, expressionless eye, and let out a sigh. She quickly reformed her smile, realizing that the commander was still his normal self. She did an about-face, took two steps back, did another about-face, and stood at attention. The commander cocked at eyebrow at her. Cheeky girl.
"Stubborn Hounds!" He bellowed. "Stand at attention when in the presence of your superior!" He refrained from using the terms sergeant or commander. His mercenaries knew he was in charge, it didn't matter what title he referred to himself by. The myriad mercs quickly formed up in a line and stood at attention. True to Leontius' suspicions, Gate came running out of the tent. He was flanked by the armored knight, Oswald, and the elder magic practitioner, Dietrich.
The look of fear and anxiety was present in the line of soldiers, but most notably among them, Jim and Clarissa. The two lovebirds knew how much their commander frowned upon on-the-job fraternization. Too bad for them. They weren't in the clear. "Clairissa, Jim!" He belted out. The two uneasily looked at him. "Opposite ends!" The two shared a quick, saddened glance before obeying Leontius.
The commander waited a little bit, allowing the mercenaries to fully soak in his presence. He swiveled his heel, beginning a pace. "I see you've all been enjoying yourselves." He was curt and humorless.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Dec 11, 2011 1:27:18 GMT -6
"Pray it has not affected your abilities" He mocked. The commander looked a bit smug as he strode in about his subordinates. Smug, with a thin veil of animosity. "There's news, we are to prepare for battle." The mercenaries didn't flinch at his words. Good. These warriors had been conditioned in Ilia for years under his very own command. He'd be disappointed if they had been surprised by an impending attack. The commander grinned. It seemed that his pride was not so wasted upon them after all.
The commander, reaching the end of the line, swiveled about. He maintained a steady pace. " We've little time, so I'll give you all the gist of it. One of our scout teams engaged the local Sacaen tribe a day or so ago. Our guys left behind a good number of their bodies, more then enough to piss them off. Intelligence suggests that they, in retaliation, have kidnapped one of the scouts, a fellow by the name of Vaclrist." Gate closed his eyes and shook his head. Leontius took notice of this. "Yeah, poor sap's probably filled with more quills then a porcupine by now." The commander noted, making light of the boy's probable death. "In any event, I, and by extension all of you, have been tasked with setting up the perimeter defenses. Pikes, scouts, strategic positioning, etc."
The commander separated himself from the group, faced away from them and allowed them some time to sift through his words. "With that said, I want you all to get your gear. We need to get moving five minutes ago." The commander listened to the delightful shuffle off footsteps as the mercenaries dispersed. He crossed his arms, and turned his neck slightly."Clarissa and Oswald, once you've gotten yourselves equipped report to me. I've other orders for the two of you."
Whitney, who already had her tome with her, didn't go off with the rest of the group. Her tome and enchanted robes were all that the orange-haired girl needed. Mage robes were endowed with some kind of runic wards. The commander was very acquainted with the inner-workings of the magical robes, Whitney and Dietrich had taught him a lot about them. Basically, the magicians robe was meant to be a rite of initiation into the magical arts, a reward for completing one's tutelage as a pupil. The robe is always blessed by the corresponding practitioner of magic, and varies in defense capabilities according to whomever the caster is. For instance, a bishop granting a blessing on the robes of an acolyte would be a very minor blessing. Light magic, being founded around the basis of faith, requires the faith of the wielder to be used to it's most deadliest extent. The same idea relates to the effectiveness of their robes. Seeing that the acolyte would be dependent on the faith of their teacher to ward off harm, not them-self, the bishop's convictions could only go so far in protecting the learner. It is ultimately up to the learner to develop their own values and virtues, and become steadfast enough in their faith in order one day renew the blessing on their robe and make the ward ten times stronger then before. The same idea relates to the rune wards on a mage's robe and shaman's robe, however in those cases faith is replaced with knowledge.
"So uh, beneath the man-in-the-iron-mask, are you distressed at all Leon?" The smiley girl inquired.
How quickly one's intricate thoughts could be disturbed "Why would I be?" His answering of her question with one of his own did not sit well with the mage. With that, Whitney whirled about in front of him. She stared at him with sharp eyes. Her casual smirk was now a half pouty/half aggravated frown. O, she wanted a straight answer. The commander frowned a little bit himself before looking away. "I'm actually kind of glad. Things have been way too peaceful, it's made everyone grow inattentive. We all need something to get our blood flowing again." Whitney folded her arms, her disapproving expression dissipated. He looked back to her, a light smile on his lips. "Thank the St. for savages, huh?"
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Dec 11, 2011 16:12:47 GMT -6
Farlus had mixed feelings about being on the plains once more. They brought back both joyous and painful memories of his days with the Rangers. One of the things he loved so much about Ilia was the fact that he never visited the place when he was with his old family. It never made him long for the days when he was last truly happy. That and it forced him to steadily increase his magical abilities just to keep warm on a daily basis. Sacae had neither advantage. It was warm which didn't require him to heat himself like in the mountains. It almost made him feel unprotected. Practically naked, really. And every time he looked at a hill or a ruin he would be reminded of his lost family. Reminded that he would never be able to see any of them again.
Taking this into account, it was obvious why the mage wished to stay inside the supply wagon for the majority of the trip after they reached the foot of the mountains. Farlus would poke his head out to deal with inquiries, being the only present Ilian officer. Though he would usually just send them to Leontius unless it was a member of the mage division. After the ambush in the mountain pass, the magi in the army grew quite fond of Farlus. They kind of felt like his own platoon. Though the magician was merely a staff officer so officially commanding an actual platoon of soldiers was really just a pipe dream that that point in time.
Eventually, however, Farlus grew tired of hiding. Also, there was quite a bit of commotion outside the wagon. Wing beats, armored footfalls, conversation. Not much different from the usual sounds one heard in a traveling army. However, these sounded far more urgent. The mage decided to step out and get a better view of the situation. With a quick hop, Farlus was through the tarp at the back of the wagon and on the grass and in the sunlight. Immediately, sweat beaded on his face. He began to think that, if they were to spend much longer on the plains, then he might as well cut his hair. The white locks stuck together and clumped on his neck and brow with the sweat the heat coaxed from his dark skin.
Farlus strode to where the bulk of the commotion was coming from and found Leontius conversing with some of his mercenaries.
"I hope you aren't referring to the nomadic tribes around here. I happen to have lived with a few as a boy. They were quite helpful." the mage rebutted Leontius' comment about savages whilst attempting to put on his usual facade, "Now, what of Valcrist, dear sir? I do believe I fought alongside the boy at the ambush in the mountains. He was more than a competent swordsman. To capture him would be no small task. In fact, i would like it if you would brief me on anything vital to our current situation."
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Dec 13, 2011 16:06:07 GMT -6
Leontius almost jumped at the sudden interruption. He turned around to find the origin of the familiar voice. Behind him, standing in a very militaristic, black uniform was Farlus, the reclusive tactician. Well, that was just great. He hadn't intended for anyone other then Whitney to hear his rambling. Why hadn't the orange-haired girl notified him, it wasn't like he had eyes in the back of his head. Not that he would deny said claim if confronted about it. Come to think of it, this was precisely the kind of thing Whitney would do, mischief maker that she was. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd set this up and was currently giggling behind his back.
The commander restrained himself from showing any visible signs of irritability. He'd really wished the tactician hadn't heard that. He'd have preferred to kept up a more professional visage around anyone he was unfamiliar with. Well, it seemed he'd just have to do that. Play along with what he said and move on. "With respect, sir, savage is fairly accurate term. Sacaens aren't particularly civilized." The commander tried to state as matter-of-factly as possible. He waited for Farlus to continue "Indeed?" The commander cocked his head slightly. "Well, I suppose the two of us share different experiences. Only Sacaens I've ever met have been very unfriendly. One of them wanted to 'split me down the middle' if I recall correctly." He shrugged. "Sorry sir, I've been rambling. I'd be happy to brief you, but there's something I need to get squared away with my men first. A moment, if you wouldn't mind." He turned around abruptly.
Again he was facing Whitney, but opposed to what he'd expected, she wasn't smiling or giggling at all. She was actually staring off into space, patiently waiting on him. Well, that was a surprise. Within a few moments, her attention was once more focused on him, her expressionless lips reformed her light smile. "Whitney, I need you to tell Clarissa to meet up with Scout leader Thompson. Tell Oswald to find Staff Sergeant Burns. Their skills will be more useful under their command for the time being."
"O, uhm ok. Did the higher-ups request them specifically?" Whitney looked a bit puzzled.
"No, I figured they could use some extra hands." Leontius didn't usually put his people under the command of someone else, but prudence called for a little change.
"Alright. But, what if they don't want their help?" Leon was beginning to wonder if she was deliberately stalling him.
He looked at her incredulously. "Too bad for them."
Whitney smirked and replied with a nod, before running off to inform the others. That girl. She baffled him at times. With a roll of eyes his eyes, he turned around to meet the tactician. "Sorry about that." He gestured to the side with a gloved hand. "Shall we?" He began walking at a modest pace. "So, specifically, what is it that you want to know? Bennings has informed you of our situation has he not?"
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Dec 13, 2011 17:34:52 GMT -6
Farlus was a bit put off by the man's seemingly effortless way of bad mouthing an entire people. Sure, some tribes can be brash and quick to a fight, but that can be said about most people when put into a corner like the Sacaeans have been. The mage saw this first hand when he was helping out tribes here and there in the Rangers' Sacae campaign and he'd read of the troubles going on in the region recently. These weren't simply head hunters that go out of their way to kill whomever they disapprove of. They were defending their land from threats on all sides in a constant struggle to keep the plains a place for their people.
The tactician attempted to wrap his mind around what could have caused this man to look at the Sacaean people with such disgust. As Leontius spoke with his men, Farlus thought of a way to help him at least even his views out. The likelihood of them meeting some tribespeople on the plains was high and he really didn't need the man attacking them on sight. Seeing as he was the commander of a mercenary band who likely followed his word over Farlus', insuring Leontius could keep his cool in such a situation was a must. They were only in the plains so they could make their way to Bern. A confrontation with the locals could be a serious hazard.
It was soon after Farlus finished his pondering that the commander addressed him once more.
"Honestly, and do not let this offend you in any way as I have been... indisposed as of late, I know no one of your band of bravos." the mage placed a thumb to his chin, "In fact, I barely know anyone in my own army. I really should remedy that. An unfortunate chore I am not looking forward to carrying out."
Though Farlus often did not look like it, his paranoia made it difficult for him to socialize. Speaking with Leontius was fine as it was just one person for him to get to know, but he would have rather left it at that. He preferred to just think of the soldiers he presided over to be nameless. It made their deaths less tragic. In fact, getting close to anyone was a nearly insurmountable obstacle for him.
"So, short answer is no. I have absolutely no clue what is going on. I would suggest simply picking out what you think is most important and fill me in on it. Unless you would rather give the long version. I am fine with either." Farlus spoke with his usual quizzical flair.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Dec 15, 2011 18:32:38 GMT -6
Leontius shot Farlus a very queer look. Band of bravos, what? What did that whimsical phrase even mean? Was he referring to the Stubborn Hounds? That would make some sense, but if he was referring to them, then why? What did his mercenaries have to do with anything? And what was with this tactician's bizarre manner of speaking? He sounded more like a business man then an officer of the military. If he'd acted like this back in the mountains, then Leontius certainly had not picked up on it. The commander felt a little ill at ease. He was expecting a very different treatment from this man who he had assumed was of higher rank.
Leontius just stood there, feeling and looking a bit bewildered. It wasn't until Farlus finished explaining himself that Leon began to really grasp the situation. Ah, so the tactician was completely oblivious to everything that was going around him. While that certainly made things easy for Leontius, it also didn't bode well with the him. It was central to the stern warrior's creed that an officer was to set a standard for the soldiers to follow. Farlus, having no cognizance of the situation, was currently setting a very poor standard. Thus, the tactician was making a poor first impression. Leontius hoped that this did not reflect his character as a whole. If it did, then working with the mage would prove quite difficult."Well, sir," Leontius cleared his throat. "Since you are completely uninformed of our situation, there isn't exactly a short version. I will, however, try to make things as concise and accurate as possible."
The commander took a deep breath. He had come to the conclusion that Farlus believed that Bennings was one of his mercenaries. While it baffled the commander as to why the tactician wouldn't know who his own CO was, it was the most likely explanation for bringing up the whole 'band of bravos' thing. "First off, and forgive me if I've misunderstood you sir, Bennings is not one of my... 'bravos'." He felt uncomfortable using that term. "Lieutenant Bennings is the current head of our company. Deputy Commander Feldsky appointed him shortly before she departed on her search and rescue operation." While Leontius would have enjoyed giving his opinion on the prudence, or lack-there-of, regarding the DC's decision, he knew that he'd already given Farlus enough of his own opinions. That, and the fact that badmouthing someone of higher rank could be considered insubordination, and Leontius certainly did not want to jeopardize his position.
"Secondly, Bennings, as well as some of the other officers, myself included, suspect that the neighboring Sacaens are hostile. As such, we are taking the necessary precautions. I myself am about to head out to the perimeter. There, I will oversee the construction of our barricades, rotate watches, motivate the troops, etcetera." He paused a moment, allowing Farlus time to chew the information over."Now, as to why we believe the Sacaens are hostile. Valcrist, the boy you are apparently acquainted with, engaged the local nomads in a brief skirmish a few days ago. He was not alone in this endeavor, his entire scout unit was nearly captured and executed. Valcrist and his squad's sergeant, a woman named Golding, were, however, able to cut down their captors and return nearly unscathed. As you might imagine, we doubt the tribe has taken kindly to this. In fact, we've reason to believe that they have kidnapped the gifted swordsman, giving Valcrist's recent disappearance."
He mulled over his own words for a little bit. "It isn't anything conclusive of course. But, we'd be foolish not to prepare." The commander exhaled. He hoped that was satisfactory.
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Dec 19, 2011 13:13:42 GMT -6
Farlus' eyes widened at the concept of imminent battle. It had been a while before he saw this much combat. First the ambush in the mountains and now a possible battle in the plains. It was like he was in the Rangers again. Only this time it wasn't corrupt politicians and oppressive barons he was dealing with. He didn't like the idea of having to fight the people he spent a few years of his childhood living amongst. They were nothing but kind to him and his family. The Rangers did what they could to help keep the outsiders from bothering the tribes and the tribes kept the Rangers hidden from people looking for the many ransoms put upon them. He scoffed at the idea of a "hostile" tribe of Sacaeans. But, if what he had read was true, it was likely due to the pressure felt on all sides of their borders. If you're constantly having to protect your way of life from pale men from the mountains then you'd eventually start attacking anyone with skin lighter than your own or dressed in garb foreign to you.
The tactician looked at his own dark hand. These people he had joined. They didn't condemn him for his appearance. They welcomed him with open arms and even gave him an important job in the company. Perhaps... perhaps he could share that experience with them. They didn't have to fight, did they?
Farlus cleared his throat.
"Very well, then. I was not made aware of this Bennings. Perhaps it is my own fault for sulking in the supply wagon for so long." an eyebrow was cocked in thought as he continued, "Strengthening our perimeter sounds like a good plan. Can never be too careful, they say. Who, I don't know, but whoever 'they' is must be wise, indeed."
With a heel turn, Farlus began to move back to the wagon. He turned his head to throw a quick suggestion behind him at Leontius.
"And Commander. I know these men may be hostile, but remember. There is always a reason behind it. Try to keep your head cool. Sometimes a war can be won with no blood shed from either party."
The mage returned to walking over to the wagon. Next to it waited a young man with short brown hair, one of the members of the mage regiment. In his hands was piled Farlus' cloak and spaulders. The tactician took them and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Thank you, dear boy. I see it has been washed quite nicely!" he exclaimed as he fastened his armor. The young mage whispered something, sheepishly hanging his head.
"What was that? Speak up, lad."
"I said I made a new one. It was too dirty so I had to sew a new cloak." Farlus was struck by this revelation. Remarkable! It didn't feel any different from the one he normally wore. The silk was nearly the exact quality as his previous cloak and the dimensions were perfect! How did he make an exact copy from that tattered, bloody rag he left in the mountains?
"Oh... well thank you. I. I don't know what to say." touched by the sentiment, Farlus struggled to keep his usual act, "So... what is your name, lad?"
The boy looked up at Farlus. His innocent green eyes beaming from the recognition by his superior.
"Artemis, sir. Artemis Arrowheart."
Farlus knelt so he could look the boy in the eye, new cloak piling itself on the soft grass below.
"Well, Mr. Arrowheart. This is magnificent work. Thank you."
The tactician stood back up and performed another heel turn as he walked towards the spot where his horse, along with the other horses not in use, was tied.
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