Politics, power, property, none of this mattered to the Ebon Hawks. Money was king, but the company's reputation of upholding their every agreement was as dear as their lives.

As such, when the kingdom of Eridun offered to hire the Ebon Hawks for a substantial stipend of gold every month of their service that happened to greater than what the republic of Talynis was already paying the mercenaries, the Ebon Hawks were forced to decline. The company saw every job to the end, even if their partnership with the Talynis was formed only days before the Eridunites offer.

The Ebon Hawk's first assignment with the Talynis involved the taking of keep along the front lines of the war and due to the already incredibly stretched resources of the Talyns, they would be taking the keep by themselves. While only mildly worrying, the Ebon Hawks were professionals for a reason and they ventured off to battle with pride on their sleeves and pockets heavy with coin.



A goblin too young to quit fighting and too old to be caught in the romantics of war creaked and stretched every muscle in her body as it groaned in complaint, her eyes squinting against the last harsh rays of the evening light. She grumbled as she absentmindedly scratched her arm, reaching for her equipment and noticing that her companion for the night had already disappeared, presumably to do their duty to someone awake and willing to pay.

The diminutive creature took only a few minutes to strap on her armor and sword, needing only the bare necessities for the night's work. Just as she finished securing the last strap, Soren stuck his nose into the goblin's tent. "Captain's called the meeting. They're waiting for you, Lieutenant."

The goblin grunted in affirmation, waving the young soldier away as she stumbled out of the tent, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. It was at this time that the night creatures of the company started to wake as similar groans and general grumbliness could be heard all throughout the camp as their nonessential daytime brethren retired for the night. Taking a second to remember where she was placed in the organized chaos of the camp, she started to stagger toward the Captain's tent, nodding to a comrade here and a compatriot there. She stopped briefly to grab a quick breakfast from whatever leftovers the cooks had provided and happened to bump into an extremely old friend, Jhon. "How went your day's work," she asked innocuously, gnawing on a piece of meat.

Jhon grunted, the magics he had worked alongside the other wizards still clinging faintly to his body. The goblin nodded, thankful that she at least got to rest unlike the poor sods in the keep they were sieging. Pleasantries done, the goblin continued along her way and entered the Captain's tent quietly, grabbing a stool to properly see the plans the Captain had laid out.

The Captain was a grizzled old elf, although the only indication of it were the scars that littered his body and the weary fire that still burned in his eyes. Nodding to the Lieutenant, the Captain continued assigning tasks and orders to the officers gathered around his table while simultaneously unfolding the battle plan, which was nothing too fancy or glamorous, but it worked. The Lieutenant would begin barraging the keep's walls with the catapults the company had set up the day prior. If they actually managed to bring down the walls, fantastic, but the catapult fire was to mainly be used as a distraction while the mages still awake would prepare their illusionary spell of rushing soldiers using the shadows of the night. At the same time, several squads of actual soldiers would circle around the keep, rushing the walls with ladders and from there, the taking of the keep.

Every officer was clear on the plan and their role in it, but before they could leave and go to their respective positions, the Captain issued out one final warning to everyone.

"Remember, all the villagers are inside the keep. Kill those only who resist."

For what felt like the hundredth time, Geoffery felt his jaw crack with the strain of yet another yawn as he forced his reluctant body into the motions of preparing for a siege, strapping into place first a leather jerkin over his cotton tunic before sliding a coat of chainmail over this. He had just picked up his sword belt to circle it around his waist when the flap of his tent was pushed open and a young woman stepped inside, drawing his attention.

She was short, well over a head and a half below Geoffery, and slender with porcelain like skin that gave her a fragile breakable appearance. She had a cluster of freckles across the bridge of her nose, cheeks, arms, and though it was hidden behind her leather armor, her shoulders, and legs were also sprinkled with the spots. Her hair was long, straight, and a fiery orange in color, pulled up in a ponytail, with bangs framing her angular face. Her eyes, a sky blue in color that darkened slightly the closer in towards her pupils The color went, were currently curious as they looked him over, brightening almost an instant later with amusement.

"Still not ready yet old man? Too early for you? I thought all you farmer types were always going on about waking up before the morning sun." She lilted playfully, arching a brow.

Geoffery snorted at this, buckling his belt into place and adjusting it so that his sword fell to his hip just right before sitting down on the edge of his cot to tug on his boots. "We can't all be as young and chipper as you, Vanessa." He retorted in a deep, husky voice. "And when I talked about beating the sun, it was in reference to rising before it. We still went to bed with the sun like any sane person." He chuckled, getting to his feet and following the young woman out into the evening light of the camp.

Vanessa gave her eyes a very obvious roll, but quickly hooked One of her arms through Geoffery's, giving the older man a playful bump with her shoulder as she did so. "Sure, sure, Papa." She sighed dramatically, though the effect was diminished by the fact that she giggled a moment later. "I'm glad you became a mercenary before I realized you were a farmer. I can't begin to imagine trying to live as a farmer's daughter."

Briefly running one of his big hands across his thinning dark brown hair, so unlike The fiery color of the woman next to him, and the stubble that had begun to form on his cheeks, Geoffery had to agree with his daughter on that one, releasing a short boom of laughter. "No, I can't quite picture you taking care of cows and chickens and learning how to cook in the kitchen."

Vanessa wrinkled her nose at the very idea, promptly steering them in the direction of the campfire and picking up a few sweet rolls to munch on so that she didn't have to linger too long on such unpleasant ideas.

Together, the two threaded their way through the camp, heading in the direction of the Captain's tent, getting there just in time to see one of The lieutenant's ducking inside and they quickly followed the aged goblin through the flap, ranging themselves around the table and listening to the last handful of instructions before the siege on the keep began in earnest. Vanessa's eyes glinted with excitement at the opportunity to prove herself, having been promoted not long before their current job, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword as if about to pull it free right then and there.

As the group hesitated, somberly receiving their Captain's warning about not harming those who did not resist, Geoffery nodded solemnly, , A hard blazing look in his dark blue eyes. "We'll not let you down Captain." He vowed, A murmur of agreement running through the other officers around him. As one, they filed from the tent, words of luck and fair fighting passing from one to another, before each moved off in the direction of their troops, adrenaline already beginning to flow into bodies at the almost electric feel to the air. It was now or never. They would either win a great victory, or die trying.

The ladder carriers arrived with minimal casualties. Soon afterward, most of the defenders of the wall fell and the gate was opened to the rest of the company. The rest of the keep was taken swiftly and easily, as was expected from the Ebon Hawks.

That didn't stop Soren from seeing scenes of the battle replay in his mind occasionally. A scene of blood here. A flash of terror there. It all blurred into an uncomfortable mess that he got used to drinking away at night, not yet used to the mental rigors it took to be a part of the Ebon Hawks. Ruthless, efficient, cunning, he had all these in spades, but he still had yet to figure out how to lock away his feelings for those he slew.

Many sleepless night were sure to follow today.

Fortunately the young recruit was still on duty and had to remain the stoic mercenary he had to be, which meant at least that he could turn off his mind and bury himself in his work. He had no time to grieve for the child he held in his hands who only a few hours ago was one of many the keep's defenders had armed, nor could he give mind to the woman that he was supposed to dump into the pit next who only recently was waving a knife around, mad with grief over the death of her son.

It was unpleasant work and they had tried to save those that they could, but many people do strange things when their backs are forced against the walls.

Soren heaved the child's body into the grave with a grunt before moving onto the woman next. The mercenary swore under his breath as he tried to lift the woman by himself. He took a few slow, lumbering steps before dropping her quickly and calling over Tinder with his grave detail. The mage shook his head, spouting some excuse of seeing to another burial detail. The recruit had some choice words to say about that, but the recruit thought better and sighed, resigning himself to filling this particular burial pit himself.



The Lieutenant grumbled as she was called away from the breakdown of the siege engines. While deep down she knew any person in the company could take down the engines better than any regular army engineer, she still fretted that one of the idiots would impossibly ruin something as they often tended to do.

The goblin's nose crinkled as the smell of charred flesh wafted downwind toward the original camp.

There were rumors that some nondescript disease was running rampant through the keep even before the company came. Of course they only found that out after they had stormed through the gates and saw a mass of corpses already piling on one side of the camp. The healers and mages did the best they could to contain the isolated cases of the disease popping up among the soldiers, having already set up a quarantine area all around the keep as they did their best to eradicate whatever traces of the disease is left.

All very important and dire stuff, the Lieutenant understood, but still, could they have at least burned the bodies where the smell wouldn't spread all over the damn place.



The Captain, looking no worse for the wear than he did last night, stood in the same tent at the same briefing table as last night, since the keep was apparently currently uninhabitable. People, he could handle, but diseases were another headache entirely. His healers assured it was nothing they couldn't handle - as long as the mages stayed out of their way of course, with the mages feeling much the same toward the doctors and healers. It was frustrating to deal with the two groups to say the least.

Suddenly both of his tent flaps burst inwardly to make way for Patcher and That Old Grizzly Fart (Grizzly to people he hadn't completely alienated himself from), the company's head doctor and wizard respectively. They came in, mouths already chattering about this problem or that with some person or another, the Captain didn't know, and he didn't particularly care. What he did care about was their incessant screeching was not helping with the constant migraine he had when dealing with either of them and they both of them together made everything exponentially worse.

The Captain pretended to listen carefully and diligently as each person flung their figurative feces at the other before he raised a finger to silence both of them. Their arguing stopped immediately. The Captain held the finger up for a long while, enjoying the brief peace and quiet.

After the pounding in his head lessened ever so slightly, he pointed his finger back toward the flaps, away from them. The two head dunderheads opened their mouths in protest, each about to say something that the Captain probably wouldn't care about. All argument went away once the elf turned his tired look into a hard glare that cowed the both of them, a glare that was practiced and perfected over literal centuries. The message was clear, and both heads began storming out, thankfully waiting a good distance away until they began their squabble again.

'They are all literally children,' the elf though exasperatedly as he began looking over his plans and reports again, their next destination not pleasing him at all.

Grimacing slightly with a delicate wrinkle of her nose, Vanessa grimly used a square of cloth to clean The blade of her sword, the white material coming away red in her hand. She tried not to breathe too deeply as she did so, uncomfortably aware of the hazy smoke drifting from the pile of burning corpses even as she resolutely determined not to think of such things. A distraction came easily a moment later in the appearance of a stoic looking dwarf who's beard and braided hair was just as flamingly vivid as her own. He sighed as he collapsed onto the top of the crate next to the young woman, retrieving another cloth like hers to begin cleaning his own ax blade.

"Greetings Tholonbard." Vanessa lilted amiably.

Tholonbard grunted out a soft laugh, glancing sideways at the young woman. "Evening Lassie." He rumbled in return in a deep baritone of a voice, his beard twitching with a smile. "How did yer first Battle as a captain fair?"

"Well enough." Vanessa shrugged One of her shoulders, tilting her head to one side as she examined her sword. "I don't think it helped any win a few of the novices in my group ran headlong into the corpse mountain." The memory had her sighing heavily, A small scowl puckering her fore head. This was perhaps the reason why she threw The dirty cloth with unnecessary force onto a pile of similarly discolored squares.

Tholonbard snorted his distaste and agreement. "I don't think any of us saw that one coming."

"No..." The young woman grumbled, finally getting to her feet and sheathing her sword. "I'm going to go help bury the bodies. I'll catch you later for a drink.," she waved one hand as she walked away, disappearing into the night.



Rubbing his face briskly with both of his hands, Leodin finally released the breath he had been holding in one great woosh. His eyes, angular and the palest of blues, were bright with unshed tears that he flatly refused to let fall. His young elvin features twisted with pain for one moment longer before he pulled a passive mask into place. There would be time later to grieve for the loss of his wife, Lost in the battle after being separated from his side by a mere human soldier, but he would not show that weakness in front of his companions. He was new to the Ebon Hawks, had only been counted in their numbers for three months, so they had not earned that amount of trust from the warrior yet... Pulling is long black hair back from his face, the elf quickly plaited his hair into a long braid of mourning, letting it fall across his left shoulder before collecting his bow, Quiver of arrows, and the hand and a half sword his wife had forged for him for their wedding. Gaze distant, Leodin purposefully walked away from the place he had buried Eilorin's body, moving on to the next pile of corpses to be buried, ignoring the ache of his own wounds as he stepped into place beside a redheaded woman, reaching out automatically to help her lift the body of a man who's face he did not see.

"What a mess..." He heard the woman sigh heavily.

"indeed." Leo agreed darkly, collecting the broken body of a teenaged girl. "Quite the bloody mess..."