A Cadet's Journal

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide=Tabbah 10th S-Day] I awoke adrift after the storm threw me. Or was it the Ship that sank? Unknown and no sign of any of the crew. It's possible the magic worked better than hoped or in mere accident sent askew. I must find them, I have to. It's what the Captain would do and the Quartermaster would tan my hide worse than Pra'Raj in the Tabbah Sun if I let anyone drown on his watch. A few cantrips to clear what little debris could be found but there's nothing.

It's like instead of merely sinking, the Ships gone. They're all gone. They're... No, don't think like that. Focus. Mission first. Trained for this. No thoughts.[/hide]

[Hide=Tabbah 13th S+ 3] What little could be rationed from my kit has been. Food is had but as always it is Water that will end you. This damnable sea, none of it worth drinking. I've taken to using the trick the Quartermaster taught me in the earliest days of my lessons. Using the Sea-Water to cool the metal of my Helmet then a Ray of Frost to condensate it. From there a Flare spell is enough to see the steam needed. Then my cloak can be used as a filter to see the Water at least made drinkable.

Once I have water, then can worry of my dwindling food. Few Eels about, fewer fish, but something will be done. I did not survive all I did to die in this place. I can't.[/hide]

[hide=Tabbah 16th S+ 6] Misery. Soaking, starving, parched. The Captain had such plans for us, for me. It was all finally working out. The Crew, the lessons, my future. I was going to be someone. I was going to be able to finally do so much. The older hands would be quick to mock me, then sneer, after I was moved from deckhand work to the Quartermaster's cabin to help with the book-keeping. I don't have much a head for sums but the weights and measurements were easy enough to convince him I should be taught a few cantrips.

When he convinced the Captain we should stop at the next port, get me some proper scrolls, get me some lessons - That it would help the crew. I thought my teeth were going to cut through my cheeks I was smiling so wide.

...Now it's been days. No sign of them. Nothing. I'm so alone. Stop it. Stop. Focus. Routine. Focus on the routine. You woke,  after the water collected the Cloak returned to being used as a Sail. Even if it's slow, even if it's little wind, some is better than nothing. Can't stop moving. Can't stop. Focus.[/hide]

[hide=Tabbah 21st, S + 10, E-Day ] It is unknown if it was the heat, the starvation, or dehydration that lead to me passing out. Ten days adrift, and I awoke on the coast, well and south of Qadira by all rough questioning. Fortunately it was a group of Refugees who spotted me. I was able to join their caravan to Ephia's Well. I thought this shit-hole was destroyed by the Wyrm Cult? Their leaders executed, Melek invading during an Ash Storm. Rumors seem to have failed. Any port in a storm but this place is disgusting.

It smells of sweat and abject misery. Refugees the word of the day as there seems to be a looming force coming. Frostport Savages, Banafsian fops... and Woodmonkeys. Spat from the moist loins of the Sands from the place they call "Oasis".

Some dinar scraped together easy enough, but twice though did call ring out - La Banda Rossa has survived.  They too have survived all their upheavals and misery.

... And they seek new blood. This is the longest I have been without crew in years.

It may be time for Il Calamaro Colbalto to shift its hue.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide= Tabba 21st, E +1, J]  The morning began with confirmation of my concerns. The craft of Wizardry within Ephia's Well is dominated by twofold force - The Astronomers of Q'tolip and the Gold League's Alchemical Guild. Both have their merits but so too their deep flaw. The Nadiri of the Exile Q'tolip are nascent gazers of navel. They plod about with their little mysteries, acting as if throwing the corpses of Nadiri into Djinn will somehow bring some enlightenment on how to best the creatures. Let them have it, says I.

The Alchemists Guild. They labor but for naught but Dinar. They deal Magic as if it were a weapon, in a city where so many crave to survive. A respectable practice - save one facet. They are a school of fish aspiring to eat beyond their fill. The Accord is set and the Accord is firm. Tempting such folly. But it is said they pay good dinar for business. Qari, a local Ashhin has paid some dinar for insult. An amusing notion. Wajeeb confirmed the practice of Wizardry a beleaguered notion. This bodes well for me, as territory carved.

Most importantly though, I have earned place in the Company. La Banda Rossa. Their tactics vary and their reputation severe, but what else says the lamenting losers of strife than how they were handled. Time will tell how much is true and how much is questioned, but it is made clear my place.

I am Recluta. My orders are four: Eat, Drink, Fight, Die. Fortunately I have been able to prove my use. I have been brought in as a specialist, aiding in preparations. Artifice, supply, A War comes. They must be ready.

I feel already an Eighthmaster, but they have accepted me, so it is a duty I shall undertake. My first mission a success, I only await more orders.

In time though I shall take to the field. Not alone, not for singular glory, but in the Company of Heroes. Markus reminds me an older brother. Slow to speak but when he does there is a wisdom. The Uncles, Gianluca and Bruno. They are more alike than they care to admit, but they are both firm in their charge. Respectable in their field. And most importantly - Hold rank. Kythaela I have heard much of already, but not seen. Perhaps she takes afield. Perhaps she has angered Louis for the last time. He was heard muttering of the Wood Monkeys during my recruitment. Ultimatley for the first time in two weeks, I will rest.

And rest I will need. I've potions brewing in the pot but I need to tend the Bucket, and the storage room, and then begin the pursuit of a Master.

Apprenticeship is mandatory, the Balestriere have given leave for Qari to partake of such but he is preoccupied with Politic.

Until then I clean, I prepare, and I serve. For this is the undertaking of Il Calamaro Cremisi la Banda Rossa.

Many are my hands, and in the deep I swim.

I drift to sleep tonight thinking of the Captain, of L'orca, and how they would be proud.

Their training has seen me join this most famous Company.

My face hurts from the smile...[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide=Tabbah 22, E+ 2, J+1]

A long day. Miles and miles traveled across the desert. Melek slain, Hobgoblins, more. Politics of this place is an unsual thing and I intend to be well and far from it.

The birthplace of the Woodmonkeys was an oddity to see. It is unknown what Bruno intends with our reconnoitering orders but I hope it is avoidance. Fey magics a tricky thing.

It is all very new still, and I am very tired, I write now only to maintain discipline and keep record. The days grow shorter as matters filled with fieldwork.

Tomorrow though I am ready at last to return to combat. The proper spells for basic combat acquired from local Wizards and now efforts begin in full.

I will rest, I will eat, I will drink, and I will fight or I will die.

This is what it is to be Recluta[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide= Tabbah 23, J+2]  I miss the recon work of Spring's Gift.  That was a simple objective, a simple undertaking, and a simple report. While I do not fancy myself a scout of any talent - Trackers, Rangers, the local odd Wildwomen I've met in my travels. They are all far more capable by leagues and fathoms. I have though taken to practice of my studies. Whipping the Sands, they work comparable to the salt-spray of the Sinking Sea. Less fog, more... Mirage. The combination of latent Ash, the heat in the air, the glare of the Sun, and bending that light promotes an effective camoflauge for travel.

And travel I have. I've ran until I vomited, I've marched through swamp. I feel i've walked more in these last two days than I have my entire life. Never have I so missed a Vessel.

Balestriere Bruno has called it "Tending Errands". It is nothing new, each rank has its rituals and requirements of newcomer. Hazing. Being sent seventy, eighty leagues though into hostile territory. Beyond hostile. An entire Battalion of Lizardfolk. One of their assassins able to pierce my veil, though their massive and hulking shock troopers easily discounted me in passing.

I bore witness to the atrocities of the Great Ash.  Ravager and Brigand ripped to pieces in the Echoing Canyons by Desert Lion. They should have chosen prey closer to Ephia.

Upon the isle of Hafidah, Hadifah? I will need check the Banda's cartography for spelling - I watched Insects rip asunder the scale and flesh of an Ash Python... only to discover within the quarter-digested remains of an Ashfolk Merchant.

Upon the Great Ring Road, or whatever they call such ruins, squadrons of Hobgoblins facing off against Packs of Gnolls, and a ravenous swarm of Botfly having its way with their Corpses.
The insects of this place are peculiar, but one thing becomes painfully clear.
To survive in this place is not enough. The dangers faced, the threats surrounding.

When a man dies at sea he is simply tossed aside, claimed by the Sages.
Here... Here they just sit. Sit and growing worse of smell beneath the Desert Sun.
Ripped to pieces, ripped and infested by insect.
It is a hard thing to witness, and even harder to stomach if they are left for a few day.
The barbarism of this place, astonishing.

I cannot be removed from scout work soon enough, and I have no stomach for the politics of this backwater shithole.

As Recluta though I must do as I am ordered, no more, no less.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide=Tabbah 24, J+3]

The day was a hectic one, falling more into the routine of things. Morning is my time. Study, customers for potions, keeping an eye on the Torchbearers and other long term contract holders.

Afternoon is spent on Deck with Balestriere Bruno. Running him errands while he works on the Mermaids Tale then spending time among the Krak hearing the gossip of the day. Usually some light combat training as well.

Evening is Etiquette and Contract drills with Gianluca, of which Kythaela comes and goes fitting her Monicker.

Tonight though was jarring. To meet La Capitana. What a woman.

And  a Condottiero offering me... praise, during a meeting. At least I think it was praise. Her tone said one thing but her actions said another. And the Balestriere just stared for a very long time.

Politics is increasingly becoming the focus. I hope it settles soon, the workings of these foreigners is lost on me. Houses are such simpler governance in Il Modo.

I take no pleasure in violence... well, that's a lie. Kind of a disconcerting one. I'm not quite as bombastic as Gers but there's something about the efficiency that is... growing on me in non-nautical combat. On the sea it's finesse, avoiding strife, the deck-combat a rarity if a proper captain can sink the rival.

Here it's... visceral. I find myself more often than not just watching. Waiting for the moment.[/hide]

[Hide=Tabbah 25, J + 4]Today a Legate died in Ephia's Well.

She took such glee in announcing her defying of La Capitana. How she "Stood down the Banda" and endeavored to clip us.

I'm sure it brought her solace while the spear ripped through her chest.

While it is unknown why such a thing was done, it has shifted a tone. This election has grown a great deal more severe, for a great many peoples.

I yearn to be free of politics but as Recluta I do as I am told. That is how I best serve my new found crew, this odd family. While Gianluca preens with the Purples, and the Lion and Balestriere bandy with the Gold.

I understand, in barest theory, the work at play. Gianluca's worth to the Company shown by the hour. He navigates these waters with such a deft ease. Bruno works the crowds better than any balladeer, and the Lion's reputation sits as earned.

In trio they work from the ground up to shape much of the Cinquefoil's position within the Well, leaving the Balladeers to ply their trade while the Sisters... send their Acolytes to do as they do.

Hypatia seems nice enough, but they all seem... nice enough. It's a bit unnerving. But they do good work, and serve their purpose.

Considering today a murder took place of a Legate, during Election for the other seat, and the "Congress" or whatever it is to be called comes in fewer days now?

The time comes to do as Mercenary do best.

We grow fat in peace, to throw our weight about should War come...[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide= Tabbah 26, J+5]

My first day assigned to the Lion was not a boring one, by any stretch.
Morning began with light patrol and securing additional resource for works going forward.
Her Recon work isn't for me but it was interesting to witness the rise of a Legate.
It felt like it would have had more ceremony but they swore him in swiftly, so swiftly in fact they did not notice me.

A formal meeting with the Lyrist of the Balladeers proved curious. She believes firmly in her efforts.
Meeting with Apothar Mae. Meeting with Apothar Cosine. Meeting with the Torchbearers.
Meeting with Apothar Azimi. Meeting with Bernadetta.
Meeting, meeting, meeting, meeting.
Meeting with Qari. Meeting with Cosine and Zenithar Oro and Azimi.

It is clear to see how she earned her name the Lion. She is unrelenting in her hunts.
I've found an outlet for all these troubles, but I begin to worry what it says of me.
They all talk of violence, we all undertake it, that is the job of Soldiers.
...I have begun dabbling in Hexes.

Illusion has less sway in battle upon the sands, but a well placed Hex? A timely curse?
It can cripple an enemy movement in seconds, exposing an entire flank for maneuver.
It is also a practice that most of the common sell-sword eschew, allowing potential contract.
The only problem is the requirement for live target.

Dummies do not respond to curse.
So I steeled myself. Preparing the Curse.
Today we marched upon Scorpioid and along the way Raiders ambushed us.
Yomar and Estelise would have twisted the light in the skies to burn them.
Katherine would have stunned and struck them with lightning.
Gers would have ripped a field of gas scalding the flesh and scouring the bone.

...I broke him.
He just froze.
Howling in agony.
He was twitching. He couldn't stop.
He could barely hold his Spear.
And yet from the shaking in his fingers, he also could not drop it.
He was shaking.
The jerking motions, they were like an odd, primitive dance.
Something base, something old, something...

...He was screaming. He couldn't stop screaming.
And from invisibility I just watched.
He couldn't run fast enough. His legs not working.
His knee bending one direction while his body the rest.
The popping of cartilage, tearing of tendon,
Trying to desperately limp away as his ambush failed.
I just watched as Cedric severed his head.
...His last moments of blinding agony.

I saw it all.

No. I caused it. I... I caused all that pain. I caused his -

No. This is a Soldier's duty. It. I caused its pain. A bandit, an outlaw, refuse, savage trash.

They were ambushing us for water, for coin, who knows what they would have killed us for.

How swiftly or how slowly something dies doesn't matter. It dies. And Cedric put it out of its misery.

It was unable to hurt any of us because of my Curse.

...later The Condottiero gave me his keys today. No small gesture. Even the Balestriere speak of him with reverence.

I will do as I am told, I will fight, I will close contract, I will endure politic.

That is the job. That is what it is to be Soldari.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide=Tabbah 27, J+6]

To witness the Condottiero in but passing left further mark. The man's command of the situation, of Kragg's arrival, of how the Deck's masses froze when he stepped up the steps. It left such a mark.

My own mark grows, though it is far more dim in the night sky.

"Do I need take out a contract, and part with my hard-earned dinar every time I try to bid us to work together in our collective interest? Is that how this arrangement is to work?
"I applaud your enthusiasm, Recluta, but the Lyrist has never been shy of asking questions."
"[An amused snort] He's got the spirit, at least."

"Do the Banda have a tradition, for when one proves their mettle?"
"We make them Balestriere."
"Ah, I see. "
"Raise them up from the mire of drudgery."
"I do not know how you measure this, but this one shows great promise. His initiative is impressive."
"A shame we snapped him up before you."

I do not write these out of hubris but as a reminder. That my Master's teaching, as far or as dead as he may be, still hold true. L'orca Grossa's student I remain.

None in Ephia I have found willing or caring to mentor me. It has left me feeling increasingly isolated. Wizards are by nature Communal.

The wizards of this place...

Gers, by virtue of both Banda and Business, was schism forged. In time business may circle back to mend of it but a bond must be rooted on more than just profit.
Qari, though he is indeed capable, the Baz'eelan teachings of the Seismic Arcanograms, their love of this sand, of dirt, it is foreign to me. My soul calls to the sea.
Cosine... is Cosine. His reputations precedes him and his Wizardry impressive, it has been difficult. Divinative works of He and Qari put one another at odds, but so too odds with myself.
Zenithar Oro - The man I have met now and he has respect of his students but little from his foes. They do not know how swiftly he could tip that matter.

And so I study. I research.

My works in Fantasmagoria have neared their conclusion.
And my works into Curses have begun in earnest.
So long as I continue to earn Dinar and prove myself, La Banda will be home.
Master or Not.
I would not be the first self taught, though it is a long and difficult road.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide=Tabbah 28, J+7] For the first time since joining the rank, I have felt authenticity in the praise of my works. Between the mixture of soot, blood, exhaustion, chest heaving, heart beating in my ears. They sounded discordant and echoed. Even now I have trouble recalling half of them. This is not a politician's pat on the arm in the barracks, this is not a client's glee in a tavern.

We were cut off from reinforcements, we were flanked, outnumbered. The mixtures of screams from the foe, and the screams from our allies muffled by the artillery. By the stomping and shaking of Titanic Earth Elementals. Geomancy of the likes of which I have not heard of since the War of Pearls. The sell-swords howling that it was from a Pact with one of the Djinn Courts. Brooking.  Between us and reinforcements, twenty, thirty, an entire squadron.

There was no time to think, to act. Training took over. I raced through them. It was a blur of fire, acid, arrows, screaming.

My goggles fogged, the sound of the breathing inside the mask muffling the screams outside it.

...But I did what I do, how I do it, and it was prevailed. L'Orca Grossa would have been proud of me.

But I need to stop thinking in such terms. He is dead, or gone.

La Capitana would have been proud of me. Her words still ring from our meeting. "The only thing that matters is Results".

The Contract upheld, the Primary safe, and La Banda's Reputation devoid of being impugned.

Hours later back in Ephia, on patrol, the primary visited me.

"I wanted to thank you, for saving my life. Please take these."

"That's the contract. Your security, paid by the Grandmaster, takes priority over any of those other sellswords, and Student Alvero had reinforcements. You did not."

"Then I thank you for your sense of duty, and professionalism, Recluta. It is a commonly heard thing but rarer to see upon the Field of Battle."

Now she will remember, or perhaps she will tell others, or perhaps she shall return with another contract from the Priory.

This is La Banda Rossa.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide=Tabbah 29, J+8]

A day of much. Patrol, field duty, meeting more of Balestriere Kragg, interview of potential Recluta, potential contract, the matters begin to flow into one another as efforts become less jarring. It is the routine, and while it may be indeed a routine it cannot be deviated from at this time. But so too must not it fall into habit.

You may be better at such Magic than I. Though my focus upon Time and Fate, not this sort.

This is the best Recluta yet, I am convinced.

As the Balestriere inquired "Is that so?" to the Apothar's comment I came to realize I have not taken to the field with the Lion. She has a sizeable reputation but all I ever see of her is lounging in the sun, cavorting with her cadre of female companions, nestled away on the cobbles somewhere while she and Lynneth play at petting the lion.

That is though, the nature of Reconnaissance work, and a matter our foes forget. We never see Kythaela or Gianluca take far to the field.

With though how much Kragg and Gianluca take to the new recruits, how much the Lion takes to Paolina,

For the first time I begin to feel the acute sting. Even Bernadette, as she finds her footing, will likely end up working with Paolina if she can garner further trust.

Tonight as Kragg interrogated the prospective recruit, talking of what it is to be a Recluta, and what he seeks, what he offers...

For the first time the 19 days since my shipwreck...

...I feel outside. Outside looking in.  I have no care for Reconoitering as most of the labor is far longer than my magic can endure, and i've limited survival skills beyond the Well. A Wizard is many things but hunkering down in a bivouack watching Orc movements?

Or worse, playing Political Lanceboard as GIanluca and Kythaela do?

I wish for none of these roles, and though I do as I must for the company - the Company now grows.

How can I grow with it, if I sit the only Magician in a company of such heroes?

I bury myself in my studies tonight, endure the Congress tomorrow, and hopefully these matters fade away.

I wonder though.

If they all have their niche and talents.

Perhaps it is time I stop hiding mine.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide=Tabba 30, J+9]After a time you learn your place in the world.  Once you accept such it opens so many opportunities.

The Kardasel, the Congress, the mass summit. Many were in attendance, many from all over. Baz'eel, the Princess, the Maharaja, the Vizier of Ka'esh, even the Qa'immi rumors proved as twisted as tales told.

Half wanted to speak, half clustered whispering, I sat on my seat. The Balestriere ordered the benches held.

...I was seated behind the Ephian Delegation, no one cared. The Janissaries, the Legates, they all spoke open and freely in whisper. I heard it all. It was, not so different, than the Krak de Rose. Ephia is not some hotbed of Espionage, it is not some intrigue-laden minefield, it is not some dangerous overarching game of cloak, dagger, and knife. It is simply sitting. And waiting. And listening.  The amount gleaned from the Krak de Rose would put the Compagnia di Spionaggio to shame.

I hold the utmost respect for Conddotiero Paolina's works. In earnest, in truth.

But this? This i can do without.

It was pleasing to use half my time at this "Grand meeting" to work more upon my publications, more will come in the following days the same.

Once the new Legate is raised, politics is over.

Then, the War begins.

At long last. They have no idea what is coming.

These children, playing at Krak de Rose contracts, hunting monster, thinking because they have faced a Djinn they are made of stern things.

Lizards, Orcs, these are not war.

The Orentid will be engaged. One way or another.

Baz'eel has made that much clear, Marcellus' flowering speech aside.

Then we will see if the newest Balladeers rise to the challenge, or wilt.

La Banda Rossa is ready. This is what they have been drilling us for, pushing us for.

Slapped, struck, beaten, pushed, threatened, driven. Molded.

...The Balladeers are going to be loosening the shackles.

And La Banda Rossa will relax its shoulders, at long last.

Back to what we are meant to do.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide= Illul 1, J +10]

It has been a subtle thing but there's a shift. I do not know if it is in me, in them, in the Krak, or as there is now talk of War coming. The last two days there has been a degree of difference in how people are treating me. What I think, what I see, what I pursue. Stranger i have not met coming with earnest questions of possibilities for work.

Is this what it is to grow in this backwater outpost? The familiarity despite contempt? As some hate me, some accept me, some suspicious of me, but I am at least now slowly becoming recognizable?

For better or ill people now approach bringing me scrolls, offers, asking of me question.

It feels as if at last people recognize a Wizard has moved into the Krak de Rose.

We are tempermental but skilled, as Gers shows
We are meticulous but graceful, as Qari shows,
We are focused but persistent, as Cosine shows.

What do I show as people see me?
I still feel adrift, a Hedge-wizard, I have had no master. 
Aside from my training it is a strung-together lattice.
Some to teach me one thing, some to teach another,
This ad-hoc creation.

It isn't folly to seek a Master, but there are none in this City.
And Sage's know that La Banda will not permit me elsewhere, as we hold a sizeable contract herein.
But we prepare to go to war, and in war all are tested.

I sit with so few to inquire, my guidance is what I make of it,
The Sages, I read them in the portents and stars - as if I a Pilot Priest.
Waxing nostalgic with Recluta on project as if I am some destined fate because of my name.
And yet holding in my hands the results I could not help but laugh.

Of course I made such.
Who else would?

And therein lies the dilemma.

The Balestriere teach me much, but not all.
The Condottiero barely know I exist.
La Capitana has infinite more woes than some pissant Recluta.

But where is the Magic?[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide= Illul 2, J+ 11] As matters move forward I find myself ruminating more.

The body aches leave now as I'm jogging in the sand, I grow accustomed to it now. The amount they wish to battle the Dead sits ill with me. The Underdome is such for a reason. There are some places that should not be tread, but Orders were given. It ended up being a rather cursed ordeal. But I survived. And now I know better, and can prepare better, and will be better.

...Not for a while though I hope.

As things take to form though I've nearly completed my preparations. And have begun to see other sides of this odd city. Ephian Archaeology is very... very different from Modan Salvage. The ship-wrecks of the past, diving, spelunking, they were always done with such purpose.  Here it is... not without passion, the Students fair and Alejandro leads them well. Apothar Mae's own works recognizable. But they way they carry forth their operations, their aims, it is all just... Blisteringly altruistic. Such can only be expected though of the College of Balladeers.

The more I see them in action the more it seems a detachment from reality.  They claim a desire to inspire others but it ever circulates back to themselves. They claim to be of the White League but show such love to the Purple League - as if it somehow engenders their relation with Baz'eel's favor. Do they truly believe if they shove enough sandal leather into their mouth they shall simply get their way?

Lynneth is a fair woman who, more than she cares to admit, seems beyond her depth. The theatrics of leadership she wears well but even in her men I hear it - they're undisciplined, they're unprepared, in speaking with the Balestriere Gianluca she said they were Knight and they would be ready to march when need be.

When their first Student falls behind enemy lines, how many of them will they risk to get him back rather than accepting that is what he signed on for?[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[Hide= Illul 3, J +12] After so much fieldwork it was a delight to focus upon my studies. The memories of home, they keep me grounded as the nuisances of this place take to surface. This desert, these refugees, the outdwellers and wasteland survivors. They speak with a degree of gravitas that grates upon the skin like sandpaper. You hunt monsters, that does not make you Soldari. It makes you pest control.  The amount of them that pay their respect and funds to La Banda Rossa is admirable indeed, but of late other matters begin to surface.

Sitting in the Trial I looked over the Crowd. So many of them, so many voiced, so much wealth, and so precious few with contract. That will need to be remedied.[/hide]

[Hide=Illul 4, J + 13] I have seen the true face of Kragg today. First all tell me the Dwarves hate charity. Then he immolates Balestriere Bruno's contracts and more over a paltry sum of 100 dinar. He asked no questions, he thought of nothing. He just demanded I work for him at my own expense. He did not ask why the price changed, he did not ask why matters altered, he did not care. Then attacks me, then chastises me, before audience in the Tavern. My woe is not one of pride, Recluta do not have such a thing. And from my training I have been put on my ass before, I have been slapped, beaten, humiliated. Such is part of the work of a Soldier.

You salute the position, not the man.
But this will require adjustment moving forward.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide= Illul 5, J + 14]I have been given leave to tend my own project by two Balestreire, and lead my first command. It was a small team strike force into the more hostile territories in the region, excavation and extraction.

It went smooth enough as one would hope for such a first endeavor. Due delegation of duties, due preparation, due oversight. I supplied my squadron with everything they required an in return they performed admirably.  I gave them space to work while allowing them improvisation but I was on hand to ensure if matters soured our mission accomplished regardless. Ultimately the prize was secured, no casualties, and has laid the groundwork for future operation.

Now begins the second phase, in either expanding the research or liquidation.[/hide]

[Random_White_Guy]

[hide= Illul 6, J + 15]One Week.
One week to finalize preparations, then I am to go over the wall.

Will I be meat or man,
Will my fate be to take a spear to the gut or stand side by side.

Sages spare me,
If my fate to end, then I return higher up the Dome.
If my fate to succeed, then I am already upon the Dome.

The only thing in my favor is La Capitana wishes my talents.
And so she shall have them.[/hide]