Oliver didn't know what to tell Sanguine when she said she missed regular food. He supposed even the best flavour would get old if that was all you could taste. He considered that while he enjoyed the delicious variety of things he had in front of him, until, too soon of course, he was full. Before he could do much of anything, though, it seemed that his glorious leader already had plans. The paladin couldn't argue with that, so when she handed him letters, he supposed that would be a good place to start. She then headed off to do something else, while the warrior took care of his own tasks.
This time, he hefted his massive sword onto his shoulder, the hilt poking out backward, as he headed off to find Garreth and Jan. There was a fifty-fifty chance he'd find them together, probably fighting, or they'd be at opposite ends of the guild hall working on whatever shenanigans kept them occupied while they weren't fighting either each other, or the guild's enemies. He lucked out this time, and the two were in full armour, arm-wrestling like their lives depended on it. It didn't matter who won. It never did. This was just another link in a mind-blowingly long chain of competitions the two would engage in.
"Aaand, it's a tie! Cut that shit out." the sword-toting guild warrior declared as he walked up. The two generals begrudgingly ceased their struggle so that Oliver could toss letters at them. "Jan, put together a ten man troop of light cavaliers. Garreth, put together a section of warriors. Not spearmen. Make sure they don't mind roving around a lot. Your soldiers are going to pose as mercenaries. There's more instructions in the letters. And, this isn't a money-making scheme, so make sure that they undercut the competition a bit. They aren't rivals either, so don't start that shit. We're here to make a name for ourselves as quickly and as positively as possible."
With that, he turned and walked away. The generals could handle it, they just needed to be reminded of the big picture occasionally, when they were being people, they tended to get caught up in their rivalry. So while they took care of the mercenary business, the Cleric decided he should go and pick out some equipment. Since they were just adventuring around he figured it would be better to look the part, rather than roaming around like the demigod he seemed to be in this place. He picked over the armoury, kitting himself out more like a common mercenary. He traded his kukri and greatsword in for a bastard sword and a tomahawk, and he traded in his favourite custom armour for a more typical hauberk, though he still refused to carry a shield.
Outfitted like this, he looked a lot more like any old mercenary, though there was still an air of lethality about him that most mercenaries didn't get until they'd gone grey. Now he just had to find Sanguine so they could take off. He didn't remember her telling him where to meet her, though, so he supposed some more wandering was in order...
This time, he hefted his massive sword onto his shoulder, the hilt poking out backward, as he headed off to find Garreth and Jan. There was a fifty-fifty chance he'd find them together, probably fighting, or they'd be at opposite ends of the guild hall working on whatever shenanigans kept them occupied while they weren't fighting either each other, or the guild's enemies. He lucked out this time, and the two were in full armour, arm-wrestling like their lives depended on it. It didn't matter who won. It never did. This was just another link in a mind-blowingly long chain of competitions the two would engage in.
"Aaand, it's a tie! Cut that shit out." the sword-toting guild warrior declared as he walked up. The two generals begrudgingly ceased their struggle so that Oliver could toss letters at them. "Jan, put together a ten man troop of light cavaliers. Garreth, put together a section of warriors. Not spearmen. Make sure they don't mind roving around a lot. Your soldiers are going to pose as mercenaries. There's more instructions in the letters. And, this isn't a money-making scheme, so make sure that they undercut the competition a bit. They aren't rivals either, so don't start that shit. We're here to make a name for ourselves as quickly and as positively as possible."
With that, he turned and walked away. The generals could handle it, they just needed to be reminded of the big picture occasionally, when they were being people, they tended to get caught up in their rivalry. So while they took care of the mercenary business, the Cleric decided he should go and pick out some equipment. Since they were just adventuring around he figured it would be better to look the part, rather than roaming around like the demigod he seemed to be in this place. He picked over the armoury, kitting himself out more like a common mercenary. He traded his kukri and greatsword in for a bastard sword and a tomahawk, and he traded in his favourite custom armour for a more typical hauberk, though he still refused to carry a shield.
Outfitted like this, he looked a lot more like any old mercenary, though there was still an air of lethality about him that most mercenaries didn't get until they'd gone grey. Now he just had to find Sanguine so they could take off. He didn't remember her telling him where to meet her, though, so he supposed some more wandering was in order...