---

Irian lifted his chin a little staring at the map silently as Velvetica explained her logic and reasoning behind her suspicion, and that it was neither bandits nor Ithillanes, but rather cultists, likely using necromancy and/or slave labours for their operations. All abhorrent behavior, all of them, but this was not at all surprising to Irian. He had heard somewhat of the cultists that Velvetica referred to, but it was more hearsay than anything, as he hadn't really have to deal with people like these in the past. Or it's equally possible that they indistinguishably belong to the same shallow graves of the bandits who dared to intrude Wood Elf territory. He never really knew proper, but reprehensible behavior like this wasn't actually too hard to understand, or at least conceive what could drive people to such a thing.

Irian glanced around the room as a sense of disgust towards the perpetrators and a resolve to bring down this group of individuals emerged, seeing some rather interesting but mostly unknown faces. A truly unique and diverse band of warriors, which made it rather more interesting to read the responses of. While most individuals simply reaffirm their readiness to fight, a common response typical of a soldier and eager recruits, the ones raising his eyebrows more was the Nem merchant, who seemed to be asking the princess to escort her, but also wanting to help the princess dealing with the necromancers. It's a rather awkward statement to make of for the elf who was just silently crossing his arms, keeping eyes on her as she spoke, but the sentimentalism felt a little bit sly to him.

Either way that the princess replied, Irian, still with his hands crossed in front, looked at Velvetica for the most part but also glancing around to those who were paying attention to the briefing if they had any inputs as well. "It's good we are in agreement. But how do we want to approach these suspected cultists?" He asked, the one question that he had all the hopes that she was ready to answer. "By stealth or by force?"

@VitaVitaAR

@The Otter@VKAllen

"It's a shame, really. The Lady Amelie is no longer with us. The realm is poorer for it."

Guillaume Fotier. The Sincere. Knight-Errant, living upright and truthful in his every waking moment, smiling goodwill ever plastered upon his face. A shining beacon of all that "Chivalry" was to entail, his earnestness and commitment to that which was good and just had a reputation the preceded even the reach of his blade, pointedly named "Sincerity." The latest in a long line of Ithillane knights that, it seemed, enjoyed the West much more than his predecessors.

You couldn't place a man more in opposition of István without the cosmos backing your try. He regarded the sauntering blonde coolly, face cast in stone that all present knew would far from preturb the Honest Knight. They had shared some time in mutual service to Earl Edric— known quantities to eachother twice over. To that end, Shilage felt no need to conduct his usual prodding, and instead replied to the comfortable greeting with a grimness that could only belong with bearing bad news.

"The storm took her while at sea." He continued, glancing to the young heir that stood beside him for a moment. "A sudden tragedy. A reminder to us that we must rejoice each day we wake with breath left to draw."

Case in point: István knew well that it served none to let slip that Cadmon was here rather than administrating the holdings that had been left to him when the Earl had also perished. Guillaume was to the core fettered, and let his honesty color his judgement freely, but he wasn't a fool. He had known the Demet house and its heir long enough to put things together, if given the requisite pieces— and for such an upright man, this situation could only be abandonment of responsibility, and from there objectionable.

He would not betray them in wartime, such was a concern for fools— but they didn't need him protesting their presence, either.

So instead, István allowed the mournful truth to alter his tone, ever so slightly, from his usual oppressive rumble. It was shameful; Amelie and Edric both had taken great pains to accomodate him as all but one of their own in his time as the latter's understudy— a kindness not at all necessary, but one never to be forgotten. Perhaps if he had joined them, he would have changed things, strong as an ox and capable enough swimmer.

But he was not, and they had passed— just as likely that Cadmon would be left without trustworthy council after the fierce gale broke upon the coast if he had, too. With no way of knowing, the mind would be poisoned by the question.

"You look well. The road ever suits your whimsy."

---

@HereComesTheSnow@VKAllen

---

Though his face remained as blank as ever, internally Cadmon wanted to swear at the news that came from their scouts. While it wasn't entirely unexpected, he'd been hoping to avoid necromancers and their ilk. Hoping for a quick end to the banditry and raids, a minimum of lives lost, and on to the next task. The likelihood that they'd be sending people in to die against undead that would refuse to stay down when they should was one he didn't want to deal with.

However necessary it was to purge this evil before it could dig deeper roots, it felt like a waste of lives when there were those with skills more apt for the excision of such a blight. If only they were here. But they weren't, and this band of the Lions was. Still...make the necromancers themselves sick, and their ability to control the hordes is diminished. Kill any outright and their servants fall with them. With any luck, we could still use Kayliss—

He was roused from his thoughts as one of the nearby knights addressed him. His memories of Guillaume were rather vague, as young as he'd been when last he'd seen The Sincere. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if he was nearly as old now as the elder man had been when he'd left. Before he had the chance to respond, István jumped in to the answer the question thrown to both of them; all the better, for it gave Cadmon the chance to think over his own.

It seems news doesn't travel fast at all. First Lord Hraesleg had no clue what had happened to his parents, and now Guillaume. Perhaps the royal family themselves didn't yet know.

He returned István's glance, before looking back to Guillaume. "At least one finds himself well—most of the time. The others have yet to send me any complaints, and with Sir Shilage as their example in addressing me, I'm taking that as a good sign."

With the affirmative replies from her soldiers, many of them determined to bring justice to the cult that was lurking among the ancient graves and rocky outcroppings, Velvetica nodded to herself.

However, there were still others who had questions of their own.

Among them was the nem merchant, Lirrah, who had journeyed from the far south. As someone who had only rarely interacted with her kind prior, Velvetica had to admit it was easy to think of her as childlike and defenseless. But that wasn't exactly true. She was an adult, and did possess weaponry of her own, even if it wasn't exactly suited to full-blown combat so much as self-defense.

"You'd have to be an idiot to unnecessarily place a merchant and supplier directly into combat," she commented, with an idle wave of her hand, "With that being said, it would also be foolish not to take advantage of your eyesight. You'll be placed in the backlines, at a higher vantage point near our archers."

Not only would this keep her out of direct danger, but it would also capitalize on her excellent nightvision and allow her to keep the supplies out of direct combat as well. It also wouldn't require an escort.

"As for you, Lambert, I believe your skills will best be suited to the second phase of our assault," she replied to the assassin, "Which brings me to our plan of attack."

The blonde girl cleared her throat.

"While I am quite certain of our enemy's nature, it's worth noting that it would be discovered far more swiftly if they had been utilizing undead in their raids," she added, "Isn't it curious that a necromantic cult has not been doing as such?"

She clapped her hands together.

"Simply because they worship necromancy does not mean they are any good at it, you see, and I suspect they're not utilizing their undead for their raids for that reason," she continued, "The undead are likely being used exclusively as guardians for their camp, and for the purposes of labor in order to locate whatever it is that they're seeking. To put it another way, we can likely expect mortal resistance for the most part."

It was a hunch, admittedly, but for a cult that embraced necromancy so clearly, not to actually use any undead in their attacks was a curious choice. Going through the effort of collecting the bodies, but not using them for anything else, meant that there had to be a reason they chose not to.

"Our approach is thus to draw their defenders from their hole with a tantalizing prize: Strong and well-supplied soldiers in seemingly manageable numbers, carrying valuable materials. Bait, in other words. So close to their camp, it will be difficult for fanatics to ignore the new supply of high-quality dead, slaves, and necessary supplies."

Turning their raiding habits against them was the most logical choice to be made, especially given their seeming boldness.

"We will then ambush their raiding party and destroy it, before proceeding into their camp. As I mentioned, Lambert, once we've commenced our ambush, I would like for you to break off of our main force in order to seek out and slay the one raising the dead. The sooner they our slain, the quicker the possibility of raising their own dead is ended, as well as the threat of whatever undead they might possess."

@Raineh Daze@Rin@AzureKnight@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora

Lirrah had been hoping for a little more fanfare, a heartfelt declaration of protection, or even a mention of how cute and amazing she was and what a pleasure it would be to defend her. She had no right to expect it, of course. Not from someone of Velvetica's stature (social), in particular. Still, it was something. She smiled happily, her expression conveying that Velvetica's response was as pleasing to Lirrah as she could possibly have imagined.

All Lirrah really needed was Velvetica's word to do her best to protect her. Velvetica seemed the sort to put a lot of stock in verbal contracts (you shouldn't), and it would have been as good as the ink it wasn't written in that Lirrah would come back virtually unscathed. Well, she supposed it was hard to promise such things in times like these. Still, she was not expecting to be part of the battle plan. It was almost flattering, being treated as a mercenary asset. Like she was a real knight or something.

But real knights got killed.

Her eyes drifted to Guillaume once more, who was ecstatically hobnobbing with perhaps two of the most important and dour gentlemen she had been apprised of in the whole camp. How did a man that seemingly naïve survive this long? Perhaps she would have back row seats. Anyways, if she was on good terms with the knight, and he was on good terms with Cadmon, there may be some business prospects there.

Still, the business at hand was surviving. Lirrah gave Velvetica a polite curtsey, and smiled brightly.

"Thank you, lady Hraesleg. I will look out for any dangers that may come our way, and do my utmost with my meager compat abilities. Oh, and please feel free to stop py my tent more often! You have a standing 10% off 'Saving My Life' discount on any items you desire! I can get anything you want, lady Hraesleg. Anything."

Lirrah turned to the bowman next to her, who had asked about the battle plan. She supposed she would be grouped with him soon, and Lirrah hadn't had much of a chance to interact with many Elves. They seemed to be rather reclusive here, and borderline nonexistent back home. All she knew was that they apparently lived for a very long time. Maybe some of them had a lot of savings squirreled away, though she wouldn't assume. Either way, he was pretty and had a sort of austere regality to him.

Then again, a lot of the Lions were pretty. You wouldn't think it, but Ila-Nem were they pretty. Of course, Lirrah knew she was the cutest and prettiest, but a more insecure type would probably be grinding her teeth looking at everyone.

Well, maybe she felt a little threatened.

She smiled up at the archer and gave him a wink.

"My, you look tall and strong! I'm sure I'll feel safe with a reliable gentleman like yourself," Lirrah sang, pouring on the charm like strawberry jam on a dry biscuit, "Let's protect each other out there, shall we? I look forward to working together~"

What Lirrah meant by this, of course, was that the taller and stronger combatant should take some responsibility for protecting the shorter, weaker one. The way she said it, however, made it seem almost like an equal partnership. A joint business venture in which they'd both gleefully profit, when the reality was that she'd want Irian to do most of the tough work while she languished upon her own timidity and reaped rewards.

"So they aren't using the corpses in raids. If I was a betting man, I'd wager they are throwing bodies at whatever they are looking for. Dead don't get tired, far as I assume."

Urden was considering the brief so far, and the plan was quite the simple one, which left little to go wrong. Bait an ambush from the necromancer's minions, slaughter enough of them to route, and pursue them into whatever camp and holes they hid in. From there? Butcher them all, ideally with the necromancer long dead to an assassin's blade. Sounded like a good night's work to him, regardless of the damn fool nature of bringing a merchant along. It would end up selling the illusion of not being a trap, after all, who would bring a merchant along for an intended assault? Still, back with the archers was safe, plenty of time to run if things went truly sideways. Well, least as far as those short legs could manage. Reasonable enough plan, hell, if it all went smoothly he'd get his pay today without having to hack apart the too many corpses, into enough pieces they stopped fighting back. He knew he would be in the frontline crush of the fight, which suited him just fine. No hazard pay would be present, not with work like this, but it was the best place to find it all the same.

"So, any chance we'll have a rough idea where their attack will come from Boss? I figure we'll want the vanguard folks like me ready and waiting to meet the raid with extreme violence."

Odds were they would have a fair spread of the best of the best throughout the lead elements, to hold the line against the raid as it came in on the bait convoy, but Urden had a feeling there would be need for his special brand of axe work. Holding long enough for the ambush to play out proper was what would be needed. The mercenary had gotten back on his feet to look over the map and plan, speaking to the princess in a fairly cavalier manner compared to some, though he always addressed his employers as Boss, it was just the nature of things. At the moment he hadn't much else to say to the others present so far, fortunately the merchant wasn't going to need an escort. That would have been an easy job though, stand back and hack down anything lucky enough to get close to the archers and merchant. Wouldn't have gotten him anywhere quick though, all the more reason to stay at the front where he worked best. Still, that all depended on what the Princess had to say.

---

It's not a big surprise that he was to be the backline fighters and picking his targets from range, unless Velvetica had better ideas to put him on stealth duty like Kayliss, but he had a bit of doubt about that idea. Velt's battle plans and doctrine were a lot more symmetrical. Armies come and fight mostly in the open field of honor, locked in battles of wits and tenacity, and the superior army would emerge victorious. Woof Elves, however, tend to be a lot more 'dishonorable' if some were to judge, but it was effective nonetheless. Irian is a flexible person though; long range one-shot one-kill type of engagement was exactly his forte.

The Nem he was observing earlier made quite the charm on introduction. The elf would have been easily manipulated by the sweetness if he had more shred of vanity in him, but it was a difficult trait to live with. It was already hard enough living in nature, as much as it might seem otherwise. And his family always took the earliest chance possible to knock him down a peg every time he had any idea of personal aggrandizement.

"Well, I'm glad to hear. I'm certain you will perform in battle just as well." He said, his tone quite a bit more flattering, but he tried to keep it as grounded as possible. Knowing Nem traditions of combat, as well as Lirrah being good enough to be around in the Lions, there was a certain amount of trust placed in there.

"Can't help each other though if we don't know our names." He gave a smile and extended an arm for the Nem to shake, and if she were to accept it, it wouldn't be a traditional handshake, but Irian would grip onto her lower arm instead, expecting the same gesture. It was not just an equal partnership but more comradeship and trust involved.

"Irian Sinewell. Or just Iri. No formality needed within our ranks."

@Octo

---

@VitaVitaAR

---

"Perhaps I'm expecting too much intelligence from our target," Cadmon started slowly, turning from Guillaume back to the wider discussion. "But this seems a bit too transparent, unless we intend to put our helpful merchant in harm's way. If they're even remotely competent—and given the success they've been having, we've no reason to assume they aren't—they'll have some clue that they've been watched. Tracked. Some clue that we're here." It would be utterly ridiculous if this cult thought otherwise, given that Velvetica's band was not exactly small.

If they somehow weren't aware, he'd execute their leader himself given the chance for the sheer stupidity of it. "For a strategy like that, we'd be better off waiting for an actual supply train to use as unwitting bait. Let them lull themselves into a false sense of security, thinking that we're giving them time to work, prepare, or simply remove themselves. Otherwise, I imagine they're expecting us to commit full force like a band of holy warriors seeking to...I don't know, stamp out their blight from the land or some such.

"I suggest we do something they wouldn't expect, but would put their trust in, and treat them as a genuine military target." He sweeped his hand to encompass the two next to him, his knuckles rapping against István's breastplate at the end of the gesture as he pointed to Urden with the other. "Send out our own smaller raiding parties. Skirmishers from the vanguard, testing their defences. Lighter groups, but still tantalizing targets. They'll think they can fairly safely hunt down and kill these raiders we send to test their mettle, add their corpses and any of their own fallen to their forces, and that we'll be waiting for the return of any survivors and their word—giving these cultists time to fortify, or perhaps to achieve their goal and vacate the area."

All standard, by the book tactics, up to that point. Send out the expendables to determine the strength of the enemy force, wait and draw up a new plan if they turn out to be stronger than initially estimated. "Instead, against common practice, we'll populate these raiding parties with some of our best, who can make sure to draw these brigands out, make them commit more than they otherwise might have. Not expecting that we'll be far closer than they expect, and after they've spread their lines thin we can mount our full assault: Our main can envelop their extended parties sent chasing our raiders, cleaning them up quickly as we all recombine and push into them. Accelerating the course of the battle, rather than attempting a deception which seems—to me—too likely to be caught on."

"Understood." Kayliss saluted in acknowledgement of her orders given, her mind already going over the best methods to deal with spellcasters. Unknown territory and speed being of the essence narrowed her options considerably. Unfortunate that she wouldn't have as much preparation time as she would have liked, but that was the nature of military operations. Not exactly an unfamiliar situation for herself at this point.

As much as Kayliss would have preferred to go for the kill straight away with her tactics, the lethal poisons she used were more effective when ingested rather than when coated on a weapon. That left paralytics and mana inhibitors. Of the two, the latter would be more useful in this situation. It was more likely that a caster had a countermeasure to paralysis than temporarily slowing the flow of their mana. A quick mental review of her stores told Kayliss that she did have a vial of it, but only the one. More would be preferable so that she wasn't relying on a single weapon to deliver the toxin. Fortunate that the camp merchant was so readily available, then. And offering a discount.

While Cadmon suggested an altered plan to Velvetica, Kayliss quickly located some spare parchment on her employer's desk and took it. She reached for the ink and quill and quickly scribbled out a list of the necessary herbs to brew more of the mana inhibitor, blowing on the ink to dry it faster. With that done, she stalked over towards the Nem, silent as can be, and practically shoved her impromptu shopping list into the diminutive woman's face from the side.

"I'll be needing these for the operation. Given that I'm under direct orders from the Lady, I trust that the discount you just mentioned applies, yes?" Kayliss murmured tonelessly down to Lirrah, her blank stare potentially intimidating to some. The herbs weren't rare, but not common either. Given that, they would cost a decent sum. Considering Velvetica did pay her, Kayliss could certainly afford it. But not taking advantage of a lowered price when it was available would be idiotic.

@Octo

Listening quietly, the mage couldn't help but frown as Cadmon outlined his plan. Maybe it would work from a tactical perspective--she was hardly trained in military planning--but from a magical one, it struck her as crucially flawed. Unfortunately, that meant that she had to give up on her preferred anonymity and speak up.

"Against a necromancer of unknown quantity, I would encourage everyone to avoid splitting into small groups. It would be too easy for any loss to be turned against us; if a single party is surprised beyond what it can handle, then not only would we be down half a dozen men, it would be as if they had turned traitor and now stand against us," the mage answered, "In the heat of battle, it would be an unlikely foe that could raise a host as the battle progresses, but only moderate skill would be needed with minutes to spare."

There was even the other risk--if their foes included necromancers, could it not be that they had other mages? The ability to maintain groups prepared for any eventuality would diminish the more they shrunk. The prospect of being able to lose one group to a surprise show of concentrated force, then have that group turned against them... diluting their strengths would only benefit the ones who could grow in power as there were more fights.

@The Otter

---

@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze

---

Cadmon quickly turned his gaze to Gisela, a deeper frown than her own on his face. "Then I suppose you'd like to dispense with the initial plan as well?" he asked, with a short nod to Velvetica. "Both entail us splitting apart our forces, after all, and I doubt that any of us are so lacking in sensibility that we'd leave whoever we send out as bait, in whichever manner, so wanting for aid so long—nor, assuming we pick who goes into my suggestion carefully, would they be so foolish as to strand each other.

"In either scenario, the rest of us will be close enough to step in when the time is right. Miss Lambert will be ready as soon as their defences are opened enough to go and remove the threat of their necromancer or necromancers. Otherwise, we may as well commit to a direct assault rather than play around with any attempted subterfuge and ambush."

"One large group and bait is far less risky. Making a single group that can hold out until reinforcements has much less splitting, does it not? There is no need to supplement the most skilled with the average, or reliance that this cult doesn't have a surprise that can overwhelm a small group by numbers or magic alone."

"Are standard tactics not standard for a reason? If they err on the side of caution, then we can leverage our other offensive skills to force them out."

---

@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze

---

"Standard tactics would be sending out a basic raid without intent to immediately back them up, and without using them for nothing more than mild testing of the enemy defences," Cadmon said slowly. "Assuming this cult hasn't completely set their own brains to rot like the corpses they dig up, the initial plan is more likely to be ignored as an obvious trick than it is to be taken as bait. It's neither standard nor effective from my view."

---

The room's temperament is that of war-strategists planning their carefully laid out skirmishes. For a single moment when Guillaume has heard that Lady Demet has passed away... He felt a brief pause. The air was as cold as his grief that washed his face. Istvan's chiseled expression did not betray a sorrowful emotion, but the deep tone of his monolithic voice exudes a regretful undertone. Guillaume's hand crept to his breastplate. "My condolences. The world has lost a beautiful soul. May her spirit be lifted into Reon's arms."

Lady Demet had treated Guillaume with much kindness, respect, and gentleness during his service. To see such an amazing woman passing on so early is crushing to the heart, and it must be more so for the Earl himself. "Pass on my condolence to the Earl. I will make sure to return and mourn for his loss in person, once this is all over." The reunion became a bittersweet gathering of sorts, which had to be ended quickly as the young Demet broke the brief silence.

"Indeed, my travels have been both great and shameful at times." His hand slowly fell to his side. "Soon you'd have to test your governing abilities when your people are influenced by outside news." His voice was upbeating, trying to move on from the feelings of grief. "Politics would perhaps become your craft." The small conversation was put on hold as Lady Hraesleg began to lay out her plan of attack.

It seems that Lirrah's pleading had earned her the role of night watch woman. It was her best abilities utilised effectively to avoid direct confrontation. Then, there was the assassin. For some reason, Lady Hraesleg had found it fitting to include an assassin into the Lions. The knight's brow furrowed as he laid eyes on her golden locks with uncertainty and some suspicion. He didn't exactly know who she was, but for Lady Hraesleg to have included must mean that she had an incredible recommendation from a Lord or some kind.

Soon a disagreement broke between Gisela and Cadmon over whether to follow the usual combat practices rather than Lady Hraesleg's initial plan, with both presenting good points that should not be ignored. Though Guillaume remained quiet and thought over the battle plan for a moment. The plan is to lure the foxes out of their hole with essentially more bodies that could potentially be raised back by the necromancer close to their encampement or hideout. When they strike the 'bait', the rest of the Lions will attack in response and chase them into their hole, where the assassin would have already eliminated the Necromancer.

"Lady Hraesleg," The knight responded. "I am willing to pose as the lure if we are to follow the initial plan, with six men to pose as guards to a caravan. The caravan can be filled with a few more of us to join the fight immediately." He could envision one version of events, where the enemy strikes their caravan, and soon would come to find out that the caravan of goods were but a decoy. "We'd be able to quickly eliminate them when they attack. Then, we ride into their encampment in similar numbers of the attackers as they'd be expecting the raiding party to return." To take Cadmon's note on the matter, "However if the enemy has indeed caught wind of the Lions hunting them and remained on the low, then we'd indeed need to quickly move to assault their base the old-fashioned way."

@The Otter@VKAllen@VitaVitaAR

I wouldn't worry. He's already mourned.

"As it stands, they'd be exceedingly blind to not have noticed us." the large man offered, a brewing rejoinder to Guillaume's final plea and consideration. Of course he wanted to offer himself as the "bait" in accordance to the original plan laid out— Errancy being what it was, it forged an entirely singular consideration of skill, risk, and worth. In himself he would trust, and by the same token, only himself would he happily risk. Terribly honest.

But upon such a note, that of subterfuge and earnestness's many intersecting foibles—

His hand swept behind them, leading gazes to follow back through the bulk of the camp. The Lions were many things.

"The fires of camp have seen to that. Large as our force is, the smoke will carry far on the wind and high above the plains. We're hard to miss."

Subtle was rarely one of them.

Roger said nothing as the others debated tactics for this battle. Shortclaw, meanwhile, was watching the exchange between Cadmon and Gisela, seemingly interested in their debate. It didn't matter much to the knight- Velvetica was the one who had the final say on the orders and plans. True, battles rarely went according to plan, but there was a big difference between going into battle intending to do something completely different than what you were ordered to do, and adapting to the changing battlefield even if it meant going against the letter of your orders.

Still, there was no harm in discussing tactics, so long as everyone could be depended upon to do as they were ordered.

Roger saw two merits in laying a trap for their raiders. First, it'd thin their numbers, robbing them of precious bodies to defend the camp. Second, it would provide Kayliss with disguises for her infiltration mission once their raiders are wiped out. He was unsure, however, how quickly the necromancers would react, both to the initial sighting of an ambush target, and to the subsequent failure of their attack.

As far as his own role went, Roger guessed that he'd be placed with the ambush team. His griffin wasn't exactly able to pose as a mundane caravan beast or lowly patrol mount, and the sight of them it flying overhead would alert the necromancers that something was amiss. There was a good chance that they'd be walking for much of this mission.

"Exactly what part of this sounds like standard tactics to you, Sir Guillame?" commented Velvetica, with one eyebrow raised, "If this is standard to you, you must have been in some interesting engagements prior to entering my service. I should truly love to hear about them, Sir Guillame."

She cocked her head, before clearing her throat.

"In any case, it's certainly worth noting there's no doubt they're at least somewhat aware of our presence, and perhaps the idea of spreading our bait a little wider and a little more aggressively isn't a poor one."

Seating herself, the Steel Princess steepled her fingers.

"But that will work excellently with the other part of our strategy. Our bait isn't merely bodies and supplies, with deadly warriors hidden within and an ambush awaiting out of sight. The effigies, those blasphemous artifices to whatever deranged faith they follow. Why, they're quite noticeable, aren't they? And we are dealing with fanatics."

A smirk crossed her lips.

"How do you think they'd respond to their destruction? Not merely supplies and people, but people who are directly insulting their madness? Tearing down what they have worked for?"

She let her question hang for a few moments before continuing to speak.

"It's not merely provocation," she added, "But a practical approach as well. If those effigies are ritual components, it's possible destroying them is not only an insult to whatever thing they're treating as a god, but also a direct disruption to whatever foul magic they have at play. Besides, they're a token of their gleeful defilement of the dead. Anyone should see it as their duty to destroy them."

Velvetica placed her hands down on the table.

"I shall tentatively allow you to arrange yourselves as best you see fit, to select either the bait and raiders or the ambush. If I disagree with your choice, I'll simply correct it myself."

@Raineh Daze@Rin@AzureKnight@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora

Lirrah smiled sweetly as Irian extended his hand. His words implied, perhaps, that she would be expected to do more work than her own words suggested. Well, it wasn't as if she was planning on doing nothing, and it wasn't like the Elf would have the luxury of watching her the whole time, but it was significantly more expectation than she was used to.

Still, when a soldier offers a hand, you shake. This could not be refused, she imagined, as soldiers were a tight-knit group. Spurn one, spurn many. Befriend one, befriend many. That, and he threw in a nickname. Nicknames were excellent for business relations. Trading some small degree of combat expectation for this much social clout had Lirrah coming out like a bandit.

Lirrah reached out to daintily take his hand, and suddenly found her arm clasped in the bond of battle siblings. She trembled a little, but gripped the man's arm with as much force as her tiny body could muster. This was more than she had bargained for, but if she was gonna do it, she had to do it properly.

"Iri, then," she snatched up the offered nickname like a wolf to a steak, "it's a pleasure~ I am Lirrah Matayannah! As someone new to these lands, it is always good to meet new friends~"

'New friends' was, perhaps, a little presumptuous, but if she was taking the arm-clasp, she was taking everything she could.

And her smile was nectar while- OH ILA-NEM-

Lirrah practically jumped out of her boots when yet another scary person accosted her, this one brandishing an order in her face. With her pale face made even paler, she awkwardly broke the handshake to snatch up the list, giving Iri an apologetic smile.

As this went on, the discussion about the plan continued, including Cadmon's talking about using her as bait. If Lirrah was capable of shooting a terse death glare that would make someone fear for their safety, then Cadmon would feel it. She was, thankfully, not capable of this. Cadmon was fantastic as a potential customer, so she would just have to remember to overcharge him.

As Lirrah looked over the list, she was able to connect it with the sorts of requests she'd get from certain shady individuals. She was no apothecary, and she didn't particularly ask questions, but she could recognize ingredients for a poison when she saw them now. Velvetica-sanctioned poison. Very interesting. Lirrah smiled up at the woman who, after the initial shock, actually wasn't so scary. She had dealt with customers that had gazes like hers before. They were typically the dour sort. Maybe a little sad.

"Oh, dear me, no," Lirrah apologized without apologizing, "the 10% off is for her personal use. If it was for anything the Lions needed, I'd be selling everything lower. I'd put myself out of a jop!!"

Lirrah pouted cutely.

"Although... I'll tell you what: I wouldn't like to leave a pretty woman like you disappointed. How apout we make it 15% off if you commit to a reoccurring order? Say... once a month, for three months at least? We can do more if you need, though. Some of this stuff I have, yet a few things here are hard to get hold of. The more you order in advance, the more likely you'll have it on hand if you need more than you thought. Isn't that a great deal? It's propably something you'd order anyways, put at 15% off! I'm gonna ruin myself at that rate~"

She gave the woman a honey-sweet wink as the battle discussion was wrapping up. To no one's surprise, Lirrah wouldn't be bait. They did get to vandalize evil effigies, though. She guessed that would be a big hit for most of the soldiers. They'd probably use the chance to flex their creativity. How productive!

The Steel Princess conceded a point that the necromancers would no doubt be at least somewhat aware of the Lions' presence. Her plan, however, already appeared to factor this in- they would not simply passively bait the foe out, rather the Lions would provoke them in an act of iconoclasm to rouse them into reaction. With any luck, Roger surmised, such a spur of the moment retaliation would prove sloppy and lacking in planning.

Velvetica announced that she was going to allow the Lions to volunteer for roles- at her sole discretion, of course. Roger already believed he knew the role he was most suited for.

Lirrah, the Nem merchant, was busy haggling with Kayliss for poison components. Roger wasn't sure if she'd be tagging along. She was quite useful as a supplier, and one could make the argument that she was too valuable logistically to risk in combat. On the other hand, she was also a decent archer and grenadier, made even more lethal by the disarming facade of harmlessness that she had mastered. Kayliss might be the Lions' dedicated assassin, but Roger suspected that Lirrah would be quite the deadly infiltrator if she needed to be.

Sir Guillaume had already volunteered to play the role as bait. No surprise there- he was the archetypical knight-in-shining-armor, the sort of beacon of chivalry and courage that Roger's mother would want him to emulate. This meant he would be just the kind of person whom they would expect would vandalize the necromancer's effigies with minimal regard for being retaliated upon even if outnumbered.

If they see him riding around and tearing their icons apart, they'd have little reason to assume that it's part of a trap, because that's just what valorous men like him do.

"Shortclaw and I volunteer to take part in the ambush team," he announced. "We're not exactly suitable to play the role of bait, but we're quite confident in our ability to outflank and pursue." The griffin rider looked around at the others, awaiting to see what roles the others would be volunteering for.

@VitaVitaAR

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@VitaVitaAR@HereComesTheSnow

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Cadmon stood still as Velvetica spoke up, issuing forth her commands to the group. It seemed her reputation as a genius and prodigy was well earned; her quick adjustment spoke to an agile mind. 'The other part of our strategy,' indeed. Sometimes, genius wasn't just in the ability to think outside of the box, the ability to rapidly take in changing information and account for it, the amount of knowledge gained over a time of study—sometimes the ability to save face and preserve a reputation was just as important.

As Velvetica looked over the group within her tent, he met her gaze with a level, blank stare, murmuring "Nice save." Likely quiet enough that István wouldn't even hear it, sharp as his ears were, though Cadmon expected that his hulking retainer was thinking something along the same lines. He maintained his own stare a moment more as Velvetica's gaze passed on, before turning towards the large knight and raising his voice slightly so that his man could hear.

"István, pick who you see fit and lead one of the raiding parties. Harass their defenses and smash their effigies, like Lady Velvetica said. Aside from that, the particulars of how you draw them out are up to you." At least he couldn't find fault with how Velvetica had seen fit to mollify the competing factions in the discussion; even if the supply caravan likely wouldn't make good bait compared to the supposed skirmishers, it could at least serve to distract the necromantic cult long enough to let the rest of the bait strategy come to fruition. "I'll stay in my usual ward, unless she should request otherwise. Do take care not to get killed."