[IC] The Ragged Blades (Low Fantasy, Rated R)

[Vulkan]

"How many?"
The scout shifted uncomfortably as he stood at the entrance of the tent. The captain-general had been looking at a map on the table, and had appeared to be quite engrossed in it when the scout had walked in. The general had not given a greeting, or even shown any notice that the scout had even entered, apart from what he just said.
He hated this job.

"Um..."He started, flinching slightly when the man at the table looked up, looking mildly irritated. His cold eyes bored into those of the scout, and for a moment, he wondered if he should turn around and come back in another time, when he wasnt so...nervous. Of course, that would go splendidly...
"Erm, yes. They number seven or eight hundred, along with..."

The Captain-General tapped the table, looking irritated again. "I do not pay you for guesswork. Which is it? Seven, or eight?" He looked almost unwell, with rings around bloodshot eyes and telltale smells of herbs to keep him awake that drifted around the room. He was on edge about something, of which the scout was sensible enough not to ask about.
"Apologies...sir. Eight Hundred, including one hundred horse. Currently they have been raiding various settlements in the south west, taking many slaves to sell at the ports in the sout..."

"I know what they are doing. I didnt order you to find that out." The Captain-General took a deep breath and looked at the maps again.

"Another merc company, in our area. Probable that they have heard of us so far."

Will thought, writing it down on a piece of paper that he had kept notes on all the while ignoring the scout, who was clearly seriously wondering if he should leave.
"They have pillaged and burned several settlements so far. Smallfolk utterly hate them along with several lords. A shame, but little reason to do anything, they would not be stupid enough to attack us."

He looked down at the paper. There was one more word.
"...competition?"

He looked at it. Five seconds. Ten seconds, Thirt...
"Ive decided." He looked up at the scout. "Get your men and inform each of the captains to move out within an hour. Ill find Johnson. Shes probably swimming today..." The scout nodded, and ran outside, clearly glad to get away as quickly as possible. Will got up, and walked outside after him, into the newly roused camp and making a beeline for the river.

"Clarissa! I told you to be on standby!" He yelled out, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

[Letter Bee]

James Fair paced his tent, waiting for word from the Captain-General to arrive. He was no spy or even scout, but he had kept his eyes and ears open; he knew about the rival band that was pillaging the nearby area. He counted on the fact that Captain Barrows would do the 'right' thing, if not out of morals, then because he would brook no rival so close to where he was. So when the messenger arrived, James listened closely before making telling the messenger that he was going to muster his command immidiately; the messenger might note that the nobleman was already in his armor.

Inside the tent were a squire and a page; people of noble birth who had joined the mercenary company due to desperate circumstances and attached themselves to James. The latter would then shout to those two:

"You guys heard what the messenger said?! Get my horse ready and fully armored, then carry the Captain-General's command to the rest of the First Heavy Division! We have some slavers to destroy!" The squire and page gave a short bow, then moved out of the tent to follow James' orders, while the nobleman himself began reviewing the maps of the southwest provinces of Alber. Mostly flat and crisscrossed by rivers; good cavalry terrain. Captain-General must have figured that out by now, and James can already guess the planned strategy and his role in it; the men under him can fight mounted or unmounted in heavy armor.

A few minutes later, the armor and horse were ready, and James rode out to meet his men and women. A most magnificent body of troops, one hundred men-at-arms who had put their faith in their sub-commander, James was proud of them. Saying a brief prayer to The One, James looked at his heavy fighters and said:

"All right, soldiers, listen up! We are about to fight today, and just as our Captain-General expects the best, we will give it to him! I expect you to fight in lock-step with the other members of the company - I must remind you that we have nothing to our name besides our comrades and our blades, not until this damned war is over! So when the order comes to move out, move out!"