Reestablishment (Open)

[Carlisle "Hartmut"]

Carlisle and two of his knights sat around a large stone table. It was more of a stone slab really but with their limited supplies and budgets they made do with what they could. The chamber around them had been cleared of rubble and debris. Torch stands lined the walls, each with a lit torch to illuminate the subterranean structure. The decayed and fallen fortress was theirs to do with as they pleased now that the bandits were gone, but after laying down roots they couldn't agree on what to do next.



"We must abandon this fortress as soon as possible Commander. This place has no exits once inside. If we are assailed here then there is no telling what will happen to us. We can't afford to fight something like a siege," the advice of the first knight, a man with bronze armor that shone a shade of green, was loudly made known.



"Nonsense. This is the very fortress we planned our whole operation around. It would be utter stupidity to just up and leave. Commander, surely you can't be entertaining this fool's thoughts? It's not as though our true purpose is known yet, thus it is much more sensible to remain here while we work," the second knight who's armor and clothing were dyed a shade of red snorted derisively, "Come now, Commander, do you REALLY believe there is cause for concern?"



"Cause for concern? The inquisition is cause for concern. I daresay, the nature of our mission is cause for concern. We should stay mobile. We've been betrayed once before, why not again?"



"Betrayed again? And who exactly do you think it'd be? I'd LOVE to hear some names, I'm sure that won't cause dissent among the others."



The two knights would continue to bicker for hours if Carlisle let them. "Enough already," Carlisle silenced them with a handwave. "I think I'm coming down with a sudden headache."



"Forgive me commander," The knight in red began, "See what you've done you ignoramus. You've given the commander a headache."



"ME!? It was your whining that..."



"I said enough. I appreciate your council but we will not be moving from this base, not for a while yet. That said, while we gather allies here in Bern, it could prove prudent to have a secondary camp or outposts for our purposes. If you can find a suitable location and provide a report on the logistics of establishing an outpost then I would be happy to pursue it. Do bear in mind that we will leave for Lycia soon enough."



"Yes, Commander," The green knight said.

[Duma]

Darrun, Bern

It had been a messy set of months for the Sacean Swordsman. The last job he was on nearly killed him in more ways then one. He wasn't sure how he managed to survive that battle out at sea. He knew monsters were a problem on land, but never in the ocean. He always chalked up stories of ghost ships and undead out at sea to old superstitions and pirates. But, after witnessing their damage and destruction first hand, he wasn't sure what to believe any more. And that was after his encounter with the undead in the tombs. He was lucky Vincent was there when he was. 

But, that was the past. And this was now. Duma arrived in Bern via a contract with a trader. Now that that trader had finished his travels, i.e arriving in his home town. Duma needed to find a new source of income. Fortunately, this town had something he could do. He inquired about a job inside a nearby fortress. Apparently, this fortress was recently reclaimed by a passing army of sorts? Or perhaps they were another Mercenary's guild. Either way, those guys routed a group of bandits from said fortress and are now using it as their own base. It didn't matter to him who was in the fortress. So long as they had work, lodging, and food. 

That was a few days ago.

Now, that he was employed by this band of travelers. Duma didn't really ask too many questions about who they were or what they were doing. That was not his place. He was just another faceless mercenary. But, even among the faceless mercenaries.. he stuck out like a sore green thumb. It was very clear to everyone in the convoy that he wasn't Bernese. He very much looked and acted Sacean. Complete with the green hair and distinct swords that were on his hip. And he carried himself with such a presence that kinda said 'don't bother me'. Even though, he kinda wished someone did. He was eager to test his sword arm against any of his new companions. He was curious to see how they fought. What was their style? But, answers to those questions would have to wait, till after guard duty. 

[Carlisle "Hartmut"]

"Right then, Oliver, I will leave you to it," Carlisle stood and the two knights saluted him with a fist banged against their chests shortly before they all left the meeting room. Oliver and Caddoc, the green and red knights respectively, went the opposite direction as Carlisle. Oliver however did take notice of Duma's appearance and sneered before continuing on his way. Carlisle noticed his gaze and took notice of Duma himself. Realizing that the man looked to be a Secaean he frowned as understanding hit him.

"Oliver!" Carlisle started but let it go. Percival hated shamans and it seemed Oliver had something against Sacaeans. Not uncommon, but it was something Carlisle himself would not tolerate. In the world he sought all races were equal. While Carlisle did not know if Duma had noticed the dirty looks, he decided to approach the swordmaster anyway. "Your name is Duma, correct?" Carlisle stepped up to stand beside him. "The more recruits we have the harder it will become, but I do try to make sure I know everyone by name."

When Duma joined the Northern Wind he would have met with Caddoc, the knight in red. He was a friendly enough man, but the stare he gave was often chilling, amplified by his eyepatch. As for Carlisle himself, or Hartmut, as Duma would believe him to be, this would be the first time they were able to actually speak beyond stray words.

"As I understand it, Caddoc spoke quite highly of your skills, or at least he relayed the praises your former employee levied," he smiled.

[Duma]

Well, at least thd guard duty was nice. The weather was fair and the skies were clear. The swordsman job was simple. Keep watch over the enterance to the subterranean chamber. Duma mused to himself as he kept his eyes trained on the skies. He had hoped to spy a wyvern flying by in their supposed natural environment. And this was his third or fourth visit to the land of wyverns and he had not yet seen any of the magestic beasts since. He then returned his gaze to ground level. All clear. Save for the flight of a small butterfly. The little creature took interest in the swordsman choosing to land its tiny body on his forehead. No doubt looking to suck some salt from the droplets of sweat that moistened his skin. Stay as long as you like tiny friend. Duma did bother trying to move the tiny creature from his brow. Butterflies were one of natures most delicate creatures. Symbols of change. Perhaps the gods were trying to tell him something. 

He straightened his pose once he heard the sound of moving armor. What ever meeting the knights and their leader were having must have finished. The butterfly, had enough of its temporary perch, flew off into the neighboring wildlife. Two of those knights gave Duma dirty looks. But. The Sacean Swordsman paid it no mind. He didn't care. He was not here to make friends. He was simply here to work. He kept his epression neutral. Shortly after another man came up and reprimanded the green clad knight. That was unexpected. But, nice. Duma still kept his expression neutral. He gave no childish smirk or snark towards the other man being chastised. It seemed that the leader of this band would not tolerate racism. Made sense. Not everyone in an army or mercenary group hailed from the same place. If these guys couldn't tolerate him at peacetime, then they might not tolerate them on the battlefield. That was an easy way to get yourself killed. 

Now, the blonde man had approached and started to ask Duma some questions. Duma knew this man to be Harmut. Leader of the group. Caddoc had explained as much. Though this was the first time Duma had officially met Harmut.

"Yes sir. My name is Duma." His voice was sten but polite. Experinced, as his father would have put it. He kept his gaze level with Harmut, and did not appear tense.

"I was unaware my former employer praised me so. It seems I will have to find some way to thank the trader. Thank you, Sir." It was true. Through out the trip Duma did not do much save for guard work and lookout. The trader trails were relatively safe this time around. Few bandits to route. He felt as if he didn't do much to warrant enough praise. He was also unaware that Caddoc or his crew tracked down the trader to actually talk to him about employment. That showed a certain level of quality that he had not seen among mercenary groups in a long time. It meant that these guys were looking for some serious folk. Probably for what he could suspect was a long and difficult job.

[Carlisle "Hartmut"]

"Yes. Thankfully the man was still close by and we were able to learn a bit from him ourselves." Carlisle said with a small nod when Duma thanked him for his words. Duma wasn't threatening toward Carlisle but he had a level of stern intensity that spoke to the idea that they were equals. Carlisle doubted Duma would ever lower himself to being beneath himself even if Duma worked for him. Or WITh him rather. It might be a good idea for him to secure Duma's allegiance for the long term while he still could.

"You know, I would like to see your talents for myself if you find the time. With the new militia recruits joining us they will need someone to train them. Of course we have our own who could do it, but I believe it doesn't hurt to have a bit of variety in one's teachings." He was hardly subtle about what he was asking of Duma. Of course he was asking Duma for a duel of some kind, and further was offering him a role in training the new recruits. That is of course if he wanted it and his skills were warranted and not just embellished.

For Carlisle's part he fully believed in his own words. He grew up learning to fight in the style of the royal family and then like the royal knights. In Nabata he learned to fight like the men and women of the desert. It proved to give him an interesting style over all and one where he balanced his skills mounted and not. His lance skills could use some work though.

[Duma]

Duma kept his expression neutral as he heard his new boss speak. It seemed that the man needed some help training the new recruits. That was something he knew how to do. Something he had experience in. But, he was a bit surprised to learn that Harmut, wanted to spar with him. The shock was enough to change his expression slightly. His eyebrows raised themselves a bit higher then normal. For the swordsman that made sense. Harmut needed proof that Duma was a capable warrior. One, worthy of teaching the fresh recruits the basics. 

"I accept both of your terms Sir. To train the new recruits and the duel. This will be a good learning opportunity for both of us. I know little of this organization or it's warriors. Caddoc kept it very brief." Duma replied. Not fully sure how to go about this. He was not accustomed to for his bosses to ask him for a duel. As most bosses he encountered were those who needed his protection. But if this is how things worked with this group.. he needed to learn. He needed to learn so he could be an efficient cog in this new machine. 

"As the leader.. I imagine you have a busier schedule than I do. My post here ends in an hour. If that does not work for you.. Caddoc has my schedule. He can make the necessary adjustments." The swordsman felt that that was a fair response. He knew he could certainly make time for his superior. But, he wasn't about to leave his post on a whim. That would be unprofessional.