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[color=gray]Luc stood at the window, peering down to the quiet streets that led to the Baron’s Manor. His cool blue eyes worked slowly across the chilly city, as the cogs of his mind whirred in steady rhythm on the problems of the day. Regaled in his heavy armor, Luc clutched his massive hands over the collar-rim of his breast plate. It was a position of rest which lent itself well to the task of waiting and wondering. 

The barony had received word that the contingent of SOLDIERS from Dalmasca had fallen under attack, and that their arrival had been substantially delayed. Initially there were few details of the event, and even less so of the disposition of the survivors. Luc had enough experience in combat to know that there would plenty of casualties that required attention; be it medically or simply comfort for exhaustion. As the Baron’s trusted personal bodyguard and security officer, it was easy to convince his lordship of the necessity of extensive preparation. Luc only hoped that the relatively humble estate could handle the SOLDIERS’ demands—Mhril was no Dalmasca.

It had been some six months since Luc had been sent to the strategic port city with orders to organize the barony’s defenses, and protect his lordship. Luc had taken to the task with alacrity, feeling his new and dutiful purpose swell pride within him as he crossed the border into Zalera. At first the cold had tried its best to dull the edge of Luc’s optimism over the prospects of his posting, but an intrepid spirit honed with the real prospect of danger, gave Luc the impetus to not cede his passion.

From the moment he had arrived in Mhril, there was work to be done. The lands surrounding the city proper had become more frequent targets for the monstrosities of the outer tundra, not to mention the threat of SeeR incursions. The small force of grunts and regulars stationed to protect the barony were hardened men and women. What they lacked was guidance and leadership. That was where Luc found his purpose. 

In short order, Luc had managed to reorganize the regulars into a more manageable and responsive fighting force. He beefed up security around the key intersection of the port and canals, as well as staged the deployment of more effective patrols to the outer reaches of the barony. Mhril’s security forces had become proactive, and as such, attacks in the countryside had dropped dramatically. Luc himself had led more of those patrols than he could recall, and he valued the hard-won experience highly. Yet, as effective as he had been at rebuffing the beasts that threatened Mhril, the growing threat of SeeR operatives posed a more elusive problem. 

The click of boots behind him on the oaken floor brought Luc from his reverie. Looking from the window, over his armored shoulder, Luc regarded the young grunt that now stood at attention in the frame of the doorway.

“Sir, we’ve received word from the outer units that the SOLDIER contingent has just moved into the city. They are making their way to the manor now.”

Luc, nodded and smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he did so. “Very good. Thank you, private. Please inform his lordship of the news. I’ll meet him the foyer to receive our guests.”

The private gave a quick “Yes, sir,” and a salute before spinning on his heels. Luc watched the man go, chasing the departure with an introspective sigh. He knew not what had brought more SOLDIERS to Mhril, but Luc knew it did not portend good things. 

Reaching down, Luc pulled his warhammer from its place in the corner of the room. The weapon was four feet in length from pommel to tip, and ensconced in matte black enamel. Its octagonal hammer surface was pocked and scarred from combat, as was the conical spike that made the reverse of the weapon’s head. Hefting it, Luc took comfort in the familiar weight of the thing, before spinning it expertly to attach diagonally across his back into the purpose-built mag points of his armor. He left the room without his massive rectangular shield however; it was unwieldy indoors, lest one desired to block an entire hallway. 

Luc met the baron at the foot of the main stairs, and gave the lord a quick salute in greeting. The tall, spindly man accepted the greeting with a harried wave of his hand.

“The times in which we find ourselves…” the Baron said, continuing past Luc towards the front entrance. “SeeR’s creeping around our corners, and even traveling across the country is becoming a dangerous prospect it would seem. For SOLDIERS, no less!”

Luc fell in step behind his lord, keeping back and to the right of the man. “Things have changed across Veira, my lord, of that there is no doubt. Take heart in the fact that there are those willing to protect what we have here in Galbadia.” Luc allowed his voice to carry into a resolutely hopeful tone, “It is my sole purpose, my lord. As it is for every one of my SOLDIER compatriots.” 

The Baron half turned, his braided ebony tail shaking from the back of his head. “My friend, if only the world was a virtuous as you believed it to be, we wouldn’t need SOLDIERS in the first instance.”

Luc blinked at the Baron’s reply, but lost the chance to conjure up a rebuttal. The front entrance opened on the Baron’s command, and the doors began to swing open.

Instinctively, Luc positioned himself now in front of the Baron. His protective nature was ingrained in his very soul now, and it mattered not if his lordship was receiving delegates of the President himself, or the entire SeeR army—Luc would be the first to take any blow.

As the light from the interior of the manor lit the street below, Luc’s eyes fell to the SOLDIERS at the foot of the entry steps. He was at first taken aback by the number of the prized warriors that had been sent, as no expectation of such a sizeable force had been conveyed to the Baron’s office. His surprise, however, turned quickly to a prideful joy. Luc had not kept the company of fellow SOLDIERS since the time of his training, and the prospect now was a pleasant one. 

His attention focused next upon the beautiful and impish face of a blonde that led the phalanx of SOLDIERS. Her stunning features were only made more unique by the orbs of deep umber and cerulean that stared back at him. A slight involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The Baron whisked past him them, and Luc followed. Descending the steps, he appraised the rest of the company. He gave little nods of greeting and acknowledgement to each, pausing as he did so to give a knowing look to a gargantuan man with a claymore sword at his back—a kindred spirit, if Luc had ever seen one. 

After the Baron finished his greeting, Luc saw his opportunity to fulfill his own duty. Stepping forward near the baron, Luc added his deep, rumbling voice to the night.

“I am Luc Watkins, security officer and guardian to his lordship.” He smiled broadly to his fellow SOLDIERS, concern wilting his gaze as he looked to the wounded in the company. “We have made preparations for proper medical treatment, as well as refreshment and sleeping quarters.”

Sweeping a gauntleted hand towards the entrance, Luc stepped aside on the stairs. “Please make your way inside. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me. I will see to it personally.”
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