[b][i]Conrad Felden[/b][/i]
It had been a slower journey back, but that didn’t matter. Their force had only ridden out for about half a day before breaking at the village. The trip back had taken a whole day, everyone living scouring the ground for dogtags, and then the grim task of gathering horses. What was worse was finding some of the personal affects left in saddlebags from the fallen. All in all the trip was grim and quiet. A rider was sent ahead of the group to give advance notice- that way the wounded could get medical treatment faster on arrival. As for his own ‘wounds’... They had left this morning. The mere thought of the fire made Conrad’s body shudder. And suddenly there they were, the triumphant returning to Liria. Each Paladin with a second- some even had a third or fourth- horse tied behind their own. The messenger had done his job, as their group was immediately rushed by stretchers and men, families stood off to the sides, looking for their loved ones. Most were disappointed. He did not have a family of his own to join, nor friends to reconvene with. As such, Conrad was one of the first to report directly to headquarters for debriefing. Even at the entrance to HQ a few hopeful families waited, calling out to him from all sides the names of the men they were looking for. Conrad could only clench his fists, bow his head, and walk past them.

How could he bear to look a wife, a child, a husband in the eyes and tell them that they- no- [i]he[/i] had failed to look after their loved one? Instead he just looked forward coldly and gritted his teeth, ignoring the calls and questions that had plagued the Paladins since they entered the city. Conrad was just passing through the gate on horseback when he saw a small boy without an adult escort, crying alone as he waited for his father to come home. 

Conrad was still wiping away silent tears long after he had dropped off the horses he was responsible for and entered HQ to give report.

Almost every man or woman lost had had a family waiting for them, married or not. Conrad took responsibility for writing some of the letters for those of the Vanguard that were lost. Not all the fallen had left behind dogtags, but the names of those who had gone on the [i]conquest[/i] were known. It was equally well known who had come back. Filling in the blanks was not hard unfortunately. Others went to visit family, and he waited and worked when he could. There was no one else.

The summoning to the plateau did not surprise Conrad in the slightest. The rumor of promotion did, but the idea of pulling the remaining aside for extended training was common sense. Despite the cold feeling of the plateau Conrad couldn’t help but have a feeling of comfort as they traversed the cliffs. This was where he had grown up, he felt a connection with it. The only thing he wasn’t looking forward to was the flash of pain once they passed the barrier. The pain itself brought back memories. Being forced to stand within the barrier for ten minutes in punishment for skipping a chore. Twenty for being late to a lesson. There had been some good moments though growing up here; the food was good.

They were all lead to their rooms, but by the time they had entered the first hall, Conrad already knew where they were heading. It still amazed him a bit to have his own room here, keys and all. But as for settling in, he had little to show. An extra shirt, armor, and his backpack were all there was to be arranged in the room. By the time he had taken apart the bedding and remade it to the standards he had grown up with here, it retained a rather empty feeling. Conrad didn’t notice, he was used to it. He reported to the practice range almost immediately, taking a shortcut to get there faster. 

At the range, the bracer-mounted autocrossbows were exciting. Conrad watched the instructor carefully, and when they were allowed to pick one up he carefully looked it over, intent on not damaging it. (Not that it would be easy to damage a dwarven made weapon anyway.) He put it on, leaving the [i]magazine[/i] out, and practiced flexing his wrist to see when it would fire. Conrad tried it on both left and right arms, and decided on the right. Next, he lifted it and supported his right arm with his left, holding his upper arm steady and aiming with his fist exactly how he would when trying to use a beam spell. [i]Alright, I think I am about ready for a loaded-[/i] an arrow flew past, imbedding in the wall, and another flew up and near the sentries. All Conrad could do was slowly back away and put his back against the wall. Dangerous. This was of course when Sylvestra started in on them. Conrad wasn’t even related to the incident and still shrunk back a bit from her wrath. She wasn’t wrong, but a commander was a commander. It was best to avoid ranking officers when they were in a bad mood. He was already fairly confident, but after going over it again with the instructor, Conrad could hit a target fairly consistently with it. The slight imbalance in weight could potentially throw off his hand to hand combat though, unless he used two of these at once. The idea made Conrad grin, he could likely add some weight to his other bracer to rebalance himself.

[b]Conrad has learned the basics of wielding The Stinger.[/b]