"Hmm . . . lets see . . ." mumbled the administrator, thumbing through the sheets of paper sent to him three days ago. "Well, you do seem qualified for the job, Mr. Carter. You do have one Lurish borne parent. I believe it's Lieutenant Malcolm Carter, if I'm not mistaken?" He pushed the tiny spectacles up with his chubby fingers. "Hmm, health report . . . health report . . . Ah, there it is. Your doctor claims you are in perfect health, good sir. Let's see, twenty four years of age . . . well. That is a bit young, but one can hardly blame youngsters like you for their ambition. Ho ho, yes." The administrator stands up and offers Robert his hand to shake, a file in the other hand. "After careful consideration, we - meaning I - have concluded that you are ready to join the Lurish Exploration Company. Here is your briefing, the jungles are eastwards," he finished, chuckling to himself.

Robert stood before the beurocrat, writ of enlistment to the Company still in hand. A hand that gripped his paper roughly with excitement over the proceedings. He'd been working for years to be able to make it into some for of service to his Lurish countrymen. What better works than helping to expand?
"Yes sir, Malcolm is my father. We have been out of touch, I was not aware that he was still serving. Perhaps he'll be among the Company."
The man continued to review his papers, mumbling more administrations, before standing to present Robert his hand in acceptance. Robert jumped forward to take his hand, excitement alight in his eyes. He'd been fairly confident in the possibility of his acceptance, but actually hearing it was something else. He shook the administrator's hand roughly, nearly shouting his thanks.
"Oh, thank you sir! Eastward? Is there a landmark the Company is gathering at?"

"Yes," the administrator answered. "You will meet the rest of the company, as well as a few hired guards, at the border town of Gurrivo. Try to keep your official indicators hidden there. The people aren't too happy with us at the moment, seeing as how we have recently taken them from Zitera."

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"Chief! Chief!" shouted a young Dahote warrior as he charged through the thick underbrush towards the village. He nearly crashed into another as he ran desperately for the village.

"What's wrong?" asked the other, a bit disoriented.

"Tell the chief there's men on our lands! Possibly invaders! Hurry!" The two of them ran for the chief's hut. They ran up to the leather flap that acted as a door and went right through with a resounding FLAP. The information was much too important to let a door stop them. Through hasty words and extravagant gestures, they got the message across.

"Hmm . . ." Chief Megedagik muttered to himself. "Get me my son. Immediately."

The Camp was a busy place, men and women bustling around, doing a multitude of things. Some helped break camp; taking down tents, hitching wagons, packing supplies. Others cooked breakfast, gave their weaponry a clean, or just tried to look busy while not actually doing anything. Through the camp strolled one woman with an air of superiority, and a rifle nearly as long as she was. Along with slitted eyes and a lot more weapons besides her rifle, it was clear this woman was the leader of the camp. The town they were currently camped out around, and the town where her newest contracter currently was, had an interesting reputation. Being a border town, the jungles within sight of the normal man's eyes led to a lot of interesting people. And Faile's men had made a few new graves with the ones who thought interesting meant immunity to their thuggish behavior. The local law was, like most of the world, a pile of shit, but they would probably catch on eventually, which was why Faile was eager to move on, and soon.
"Where is that man? Can't trust a guy to be punctual" she muttered, deciding to take a seat by a free stump and whip out her Roses, checking them over for and faults, dirt, or defects that could be really bad when she needed it the least.