STATUS:
"Out of every hundred men, ten shouldn't even be there, eighty are targets, nine are the real fighters, for they make the battle. But one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back." -Heraclitus
6 yrs ago
Current
"Out of every hundred men, ten shouldn't even be there, eighty are targets, nine are the real fighters, for they make the battle. But one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back." -Heraclitus
3
likes
7 yrs ago
"I have resolved never to start an unjust war, but never to end a legitimate one except by defeating my enemies." -King Charles XII 'Carolus Rex' of Sweden, 1700
1
like
7 yrs ago
“Civilians are like beans; you buy 'em as needed for any job which merely requires skill and savvy. But you can't buy fighting spirit.” -Robert A. Heinlein
5
likes
8 yrs ago
"The soldier is also a citizen. In fact, the highest obligation and privilege of citizenship is that of bearing arms for one’s country” -General George S. Patton Jr.
3
likes
8 yrs ago
"Wine has drowned more than the sea." -Roman proverb
Ques, Camp Valor (23.241° N, 58.566° E) 0820 hours, 15:6, 4 ABY The lights hummed their dull sound as they slowly began to grow from dim dots to what felt like the brightness of suns to Elias. He rustled from his position on his bunk, grunting before throwing his feet to the side, his head throbbing for a second and his vision blurring as he struck the ground. His first steps were sluggish, but he picked up pace as his men streamed by him into the open canteen. A pot of the bitter powdered coffee was already steaming on the counter, and all made way for Elias to receive a cup, which he then began to sip from. His appetite was not there, but nor was his strength, so he opted to gather what one might consider 'marching food'. Some hardtack and thin cuts of heavily seasoned Bantha meat would do, and he went to work as he sat down, a datapad produced from its carrier as he swiped along.
His typing and swiping carried on for a good amount of time, and his plate slowly cleared, the mug of coffee becoming empty, and he called upon his Sergeant, the faithful second-in-command and advisor he had fought with for some time, and he rose, announcing, "Quiet! All teams to the operations quarters by 0930 hours." And as he sat, continuing to sift through his messages, he again looked at the time, which had passed quickly: 0920. The canteen around him was now barren, his troops getting their head-start. He rose, disposed of his dishes, and stretched, stifling a yawn before turning to head outside.
And he was met now with a downpour. Monsoon season on Ques. It reminded him of home, but it was inconvenient, the ground turned to thick mud and everything coated in a deep blanket of rain, obscuring the ability to see. He pulled his cowl around himself tightly before making for the command post, trudging through the thick brown sludge which constituted the ground. He arrived at the command post drenched with his boots coated in mud, but it did not bother him, his own experience having produced the same result throughout his childhood. He hung his cowl at the door and exchanged his boots for casual plimsolls, allowing them both to dry.
He turned towards the operations quarters and headed within. He was met with the entire detachment seated by team in three rows, five chairs long, and a podium at the front, a holoscreen display situated behind it. He coughed, taking the podium and producing his datapad once more, starting to speak. "Right. We've got our first contract for our cover. Got some illicit goods traders called the Golden Exchange wanting us to protect an arms deal about 100 klicks west of here. I know nobody's a fan of protecting some gunrunners, but Central says their word's good seeing as they sold to the Alliance before. Not to mention the credits and potential information involved. Objectives entail securing the AO and keeping away 'prying eyes'. The prying eyes weren't specified, so expect anything from rival gangsters to the boys in white themselves. I want the E-Web dug in where it can get maximum coverage of all possible angles. I want Alpha team to position themselves with a hardpoint at the Northwest approach, stretching along the North and West, with Bravo doing the inverse at the Southeast approach, stretching along the South and East. Am I clear?" The troops responded in unison, "Aye, Staff Sergeant."
"Good," replied Elias. "Carry on about yourselves. We depart tomorrow at 0730 on the Ark. And remember, no unit flashers or patches, maintain complete OPSEC." The troops began to disperse and Elias was left in an empty room with only his thoughts. He noticed his tenseness, his age despite his youth, and he sat in one of the chairs, producing a cigarra and slipping it between his lips, striking his electric lighter, allowing the sweet-scented smoke to drift from the item, and he relaxed.
Ques, Camp Valor (23.241° N, 58.566° E) 0640 hours
The Ark Royal's engines blared and whined as the large grey body of the Rigger descended towards the marked clearing. The stubby landing legs extended with a forced motion as the force of the engines roused dust and blew the tufts of trees and blades of grass. The deck of the vessel shuddered as the gear made contact with the uneven ground, and the engines cut swiftly and reduced the noise to the idle whirr of the door beginning to shift. The top of the door retracted first, slowly, and the ramp dropped, slapping the mud. Elias set off first, traversing down the ramp with the light drizzle of rain striking him.
He was greeted by a skeleton crew which had already set up and began maintaining the base. A particular Sergeant came to greet him. "Staff Sergeant." Remarked the grizzled supply sergeant, which looked beyond the years of Elias, with greying hair and a full beard. "You boys from Company D?" Inquired Elias, beckoning his men off of the Ark, turning back to see them already unloading the crates of supply. The supply sergeant replied, "Aye. Welcome to Camp Valor. Name's courtesy of the good Colonel himself. Will we be expectin' him or any more of you boys?" Elias retorted. "'Fraid not. We're it for now, at least." The supply sergeant's shook his head. "Well, let's be gettin' ya' unpacked."
Elias went ahead, lifting the helmet from his head. In truth, he was exhausted. It had been a long journey, checking into every outpost from the New Republic capital at Chandrila to their new station on Ques. He dragged his feet towards the bunks, and his men began to trickle behind him in a ragged line into the barracks, with the skeleton crew taking the supplies they brought. Elias entered the drab prefabricated structure and made a deliberate walk to his own isolated quarters, upon which he entered, undoing the buckles on his webbing, stringing it about across his wardrobe, and removing his jacket with armored vest, leaving him in his thin white shirt and his slacks fastened by a rigger's belt. He nestled his blaster in its holster near in reach to his bed before collapsing upon the mattress, pulling the field cap he wore over his eyes and drifting off instantly.
Operational Detachment Foxtrot is looking for members! Inquire within via private message on the Guild or Discord.
2nd Battalion, 6th Pathfinder Regiment Patch
Faction Name: Operations Detachment Foxtrot (ODF), Company A, 2nd Battalion (DETACHED), 6th Pathfinder Regiment. Operating undercover as a mercenary company detachment.
Faction Classification: Subordinate unit of New Republic Task Force Rancor.
Faction History: The 6th Pathfinder Regiment (Provisional) was raised in 4 ABY after acts of the New Republic Senate called for a quick reaction force stationed abroad. It was raised with four battalions designated 1-4 with three companies each designated A-C, each company possessing six operations detachments designated ODA-ODF. 2nd Battalion in particular was given to Lieutenant Colonel Lance Thereon, a revered Pathfinder, competent commander, and hero of the War, and was assigned to Hutt Space as per orders to gather intelligence and standby for any necessary direct action.
Elias’s ODF of Company A was given to him after the Battle of Endor due to a backlog of orders which led to his promotion notice being dug up months after it was due.
Faction Name: Operations Detachment Foxtrot (ODF), Company A, 2nd Battalion (DETACHED), 6th Pathfinder Regiment. Operating undercover as a mercenary company detachment.
Faction Classification: Subordinate unit of New Republic Task Force Rancor.
Faction History: The 6th Pathfinder Regiment (Provisional) was raised in 4 ABY after acts of the New Republic Senate called for a quick reaction force stationed abroad. It was raised with four battalions designated 1-4 with three companies each designated A-C, each company possessing six operations detachments designated ODA-ODF. 2nd Battalion in particular was given to Lieutenant Colonel Lance Thereon, a revered Pathfinder, competent commander, and hero of the War, and was assigned to Hutt Space as per orders to gather intelligence and standby for any necessary direct action.
Elias’s ODF of Company A was given to him after the Battle of Endor due to a backlog of orders which led to his promotion notice being dug up months after it was due.
Standing at 5’11” (1.8m) and weighing in at 164 lbs (74 kg), Elias is a nondescript human of well-tanned caucasian skin, dark brown hair, and green eyes. His musculature is expected of his role, being well-toned, stocky, and broad-shouldered. A butchered but proper Coruscanti accent is present in his speech, but it is quite evident that he is not native of the shining capital, perhaps rather a descendant of such.
Other misc equipment I may have missed (because this is an exhaustive list already).
Skills:
Guerrilla - A trained Pathfinder, Elias is well-versed in the art of swift strikes and quick getaways.
Tunnel Rat/Sapper - Another perk of experience is the ability to construct and, in the same vein, destroy most types of fortifications with ease.
Efficient Logistician - An affinity that often leads to his ease of leadership is his natural grasp of logistics. Ammunition management and acquisition of supplies is often a spectre he deals with keenly and quickly.
Tactful - The numerous interactions with native groups have lent him a certain diplomatic tact in which he uses to gain the support of locals.
Weaknesses:
Overly Empathetic - A commonly cited flaw of Elias is his abundance of empathy and mercy, even for the enemy. His denial to execute or mistreat prisoners and his refusal to kill fleeing allies has garnered him accusations of cowardice from both his peers and his enemies.
Man of War - His enlistment with his local Alliance guerrillas at the age of 16 left little chance for any other skillset apart from warfare to develop. His short apprenticeship with his father, a miner, proved to do nothing for this, as he was on the run from his homeworld no sooner than had he began it.
Cautious - Despite his status as an effective leader, he is not bold, nor is he brash. His preferred method is to let the enemy come to him, or in cases of being on the offensive, waiting for what he deems the best moment to strike. Scorn for him as an overly careful man has been garnered by both sides.
History: Born in 34 BBY to a Coruscanti immigrant couple on the resource-rich jungle planet of Agaris, Elias’ first few years consisted of life in a remote colonist community based around a small strip mine and surrounded by 10-foot high metal security fences. He was often bored by the lack of other children and the confined environment. In absence of all else, he indulged in the novels which romanticized the exploits of the Jedi in the Jedi-Sith War. He read of noble Jedi knights with their legions of men in service of the Old Republic, and as any child does, reenacts these exploits to stave boredom and stoke the flames of imagination.
He soon grew out of his mindset and became a teenager of modest stature and build. The small community he initially knew was now a bustling town of mines and manufacturing, walled off from the hostile jungle outside. Administrated now by the Galactic Republic, the town was designated a Wild Space Colony of the Republic. His teenage years soon saw his first excursion outside the walls, accompanying his father, now an important figure that worked in the mines as manager of an entire work crew. Multiple excursions for hunting and otherwise followed, and he became used to stalking the jungles by the age of 13.
By 15 BBY an apparent change had undergone. Though the news that the Galactic Republic was no more, now being the Galactic Empire, arrived years ago, it was now felt. A garrison of Imperial troops soon arrived, and excursions slowed to a halt. Almost everyone was put to work in the mines or at assembly lines, himself included. At the age of 15 he was in apprenticeship of his father at the mines. But by no means was he happy at the change of leadership, nor with the harsh hours and minimal pay afforded to his peers. Talks with a drunk Dug with a gambling problem that had stopped in at the bar on his freighter routes, and Elias got the information he needed. There were many who thought like him, enough that an entire Alliance to Restore the Republic had spawned.
He bided his time, and barely over 16, with more information from various drunk bar patrons and without the knowledge of his parents he slipped out of the walls in the night, packed low with supplies. Following his rough sketch of the terrain and the landmarks given by bar patrons he eventually found a camp. First apprehended and nearly thrown to the wilderness to die, he was eventually afforded the chance to prove his worth. A night raid on the mines let him show his prowess. Elias, young as he was, followed his compatriots with a light step and the finesse and ferocity of a professional. The mines, empty due to the hour and guarded by a skeleton force, were a target of ease. Slipping in, the small group of insurgents collapsed the mines and trashed what stock they could before scurrying back into the night.
Thought successful, the group scattered with the intent to leave the planet. After some internal conflict, Elias followed. Now 17, teetering on 18, he stowed away in the hold of a freighter and was shipped to the core, where, once in contact with Alliance officials and vouched for by his former peers at the raid on the Agaris Mines, he was inducted into one of the few initial Pathfinder units. Years as a Trooper in numerous built his capabilities and he was given a fireteam at the age of 25. He was shipped to Tatooine two years later with the rest of his company to coordinate guerrillas in raids against strategic targets, just in time for the Tantive IV to arrive and spark the Battle of Tatooine. The company and their local guerrilla allies fought valiantly, culminating in the Siege of Mos Eisley, where their hit and run tactics only by coincidence had allowed the escape of vital Alliance personnel. But it had come at great cost. The company was decimated and the allied guerrillas were scattered. The Pathfinders licked their wounds as they limped past the blockade aboard Alliance transports disguised as freighters, bound for the headquarters at Yavin 4. Elias underwent R&R as the Battle of Yavin raged in the heavens.
With news of the destruction of the Death Star, enlistment rates were in full swing and the Pathfinders took on many new recruits which showed too much aptitude to be relegated to the regular Army. At the turn of 1 ABY the Pathfinders were back to their initial numbers from before the disasters at Scarif and Tatooine. Months later their ranks had swollen beyond that. The Pathfinders were reorganised, and Elias gained a new billet as Sergeant commanding a squad. Spread out again after the evacuation of Yavin 4 and relegated to crippling infrastructure, minor raids ensued until the knowledge of the new base on Boz Pity being annihilated. Most Pathfinders were recalled to the new headquarters on the desolate ice planet of Hoth, where they were found in the crosshairs of another massive Imperial force.
Discovered again, the Imperials launched an all-out assault in which the Pathfinders bore the brunt along with the main infantry. All but destroyed once again, they took closure in knowing that the leaders of the Alliance had escaped, and themselves escaped with what personnel they could. Further losses sustained while passing the blockade did nothing for the numbers. Those that escaped, including Elias, were cut off from central leadership, and scattered into small units which hid amongst the populace of multiple planets. Months later, contact was re-established and the Pathfinders were reintegrated, and the most elite and battle-hardened of them were pulled and selected for the raid on Endor, though most of the Pathfinders, including Elias, were left with the fleet and in reserve. The resounding success on Endor spelled doom for the Empire. With all central Imperial leadership dead, the Empire scattered to the four winds and was replaced with petty squabbles of Moffs turned warlords, while the Alliance formed the New Republic.
Elias, in the emergence of a delayed bureaucratic transfer, was promoted for gallantry in combat at Hoth, and was given the billet of Staff Sergeant in the New Republic Army, with an operational detachment under the provisional undermanned 2nd Battalion of the 6th Pathfinder Regiment. Now subordinate to the battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Lance Thereon, a hero of the War, Elias was charged with the new normal operations. Blend in, gather intelligence, and don’t let anyone know your allegiance to the New Republic.
Standing at 5’11” (1.8m) and weighing in at 164 lbs (74 kg), Elias is a nondescript human of well-tanned caucasian skin, dark brown hair, and green eyes. His musculature is expected of his role, being well-toned, stocky, and broad-shouldered. A butchered but proper Coruscanti accent is present in his speech, but it is quite evident that he is not native of the shining capital, perhaps rather a descendant of such.
Other misc equipment I may have missed (because this is an exhaustive list already).
Skills:
Guerrilla - A trained Pathfinder, Elias is well-versed in the art of swift strikes and quick getaways.
Tunnel Rat/Sapper - Another perk of experience is the ability to construct and, in the same vein, destroy most types of fortifications with ease.
Efficient Logistician - An affinity that often leads to his ease of leadership is his natural grasp of logistics. Ammunition management and acquisition of supplies is often a spectre he deals with keenly and quickly.
Tactful - The numerous interactions with native groups have lent him a certain diplomatic tact in which he uses to gain the support of locals.
Weaknesses:
Overly Empathetic - A commonly cited flaw of Elias is his abundance of empathy and mercy, even for the enemy. His denial to execute or mistreat prisoners and his refusal to kill fleeing allies has garnered him accusations of cowardice from both his peers and his enemies.
Man of War - His enlistment with his local Alliance guerrillas at the age of 16 left little chance for any other skillset apart from warfare to develop. His short apprenticeship with his father, a miner, proved to do nothing for this, as he was on the run from his homeworld no sooner than had he began it.
Cautious - Despite his status as an effective leader, he is not bold, nor is he brash. His preferred method is to let the enemy come to him, or in cases of being on the offensive, waiting for what he deems the best moment to strike. Scorn for him as an overly careful man has been garnered by both sides.
History: Born in 27 BBY to a Coruscanti immigrant couple on the resource-rich jungle planet of Agaris, Elias’ first few years consisted of life in a remote colonist community based around a small strip mine and surrounded by 10-foot high metal security fences. He was often bored by the lack of other children and the confined environment. In absence of all else, he indulged in the novels which romanticized the exploits of the Jedi in the Jedi-Sith War. He read of noble Jedi knights with their legions of men in service of the Old Republic, and as any child does, reenacts these exploits to stave boredom and stoke the flames of imagination.
He soon grew out of his mindset and became a teenager of modest stature and build. The small community he initially knew was now a bustling town of mines and manufacturing, walled off from the hostile jungle outside. Administrated now by the Galactic Republic, the town was designated a Wild Space Colony of the Republic. His teenage years soon saw his first excursion outside the walls, accompanying his father, now an important figure that worked in the mines as manager of an entire work crew. Multiple excursions for hunting and otherwise followed, and he became used to stalking the jungles by the age of 13.
By 15 BBY an apparent change had undergone. Though the news that the Galactic Republic was no more, now being the Galactic Empire, arrived years ago, it was now felt. A garrison of Imperial troops soon arrived, and excursions slowed to a halt. Almost everyone was put to work in the mines or at assembly lines, himself included. At the age of 15 he was in apprenticeship of his father at the mines. But by no means was he happy at the change of leadership, nor with the harsh hours and minimal pay afforded to his peers. Talks with a drunk Dug with a gambling problem that had stopped in at the bar on his freighter routes, and Elias got the information he needed. There were many who thought like him, enough that an entire Alliance to Restore the Republic had spawned.
He bided his time, and barely over 16, with more information from various drunk bar patrons and without the knowledge of his parents he slipped out of the walls in the night, packed low with supplies. Following his rough sketch of the terrain and the landmarks given by bar patrons he eventually found a camp. First apprehended and nearly thrown to the wilderness to die, he was eventually afforded the chance to prove his worth. A night raid on the mines let him show his prowess. Elias, young as he was, followed his compatriots with a light step and the finesse and ferocity of a professional. The mines, empty due to the hour and guarded by a skeleton force, were a target of ease. Slipping in, the small group of insurgents collapsed the mines and trashed what stock they could before scurrying back into the night.
Thought successful, the group scattered with the intent to leave the planet. After some internal conflict, Elias followed. Now 17, teetering on 18, he stowed away in the hold of a freighter and was shipped to the core, where, once in contact with Alliance officials and vouched for by his former peers at the raid on the Agaris Mines, he was inducted into one of the few initial Pathfinder units. Years as a Trooper in numerous built his capabilities and he was given a fireteam at the age of 25. He was shipped to Tatooine two years later with the rest of his company to coordinate guerrillas in raids against strategic targets, just in time for the Tantive IV to arrive and spark the Battle of Tatooine. The company and their local guerrilla allies fought valiantly, culminating in the Siege of Mos Eisley, where their hit and run tactics only by coincidence had allowed the escape of vital Alliance personnel. But it had come at great cost. The company was decimated and the allied guerrillas were scattered. The Pathfinders licked their wounds as they limped past the blockade aboard Alliance transports disguised as freighters, bound for the headquarters at Yavin 4. Elias underwent R&R as the Battle of Yavin raged in the heavens.
With news of the destruction of the Death Star, enlistment rates were in full swing and the Pathfinders took on many new recruits which showed too much aptitude to be relegated to the regular Army. At the turn of 1 ABY the Pathfinders were back to their initial numbers from before the disasters at Scarif and Tatooine. Months later their ranks had swollen beyond that. The Pathfinders were reorganised, and Elias gained a new billet as Sergeant commanding a squad. Spread out again after the evacuation of Yavin 4 and relegated to crippling infrastructure, minor raids ensued until the knowledge of the new base on Boz Pity being annihilated. Most Pathfinders were recalled to the new headquarters on the desolate ice planet of Hoth, where they were found in the crosshairs of another massive Imperial force.
Discovered again, the Imperials launched an all-out assault in which the Pathfinders bore the brunt along with the main infantry. All but destroyed once again, they took closure in knowing that the leaders of the Alliance had escaped, and themselves escaped with what personnel they could. Further losses sustained while passing the blockade did nothing for the numbers. Those that escaped, including Elias, were cut off from central leadership, and scattered into small units which hid amongst the populace of multiple planets. Months later, contact was re-established and the Pathfinders were reintegrated, and the most elite and battle-hardened of them were pulled and selected for the raid on Endor, though most of the Pathfinders, including Elias, were left with the fleet and in reserve. The resounding success on Endor spelled doom for the Empire. With all central Imperial leadership dead, the Empire scattered to the four winds and was replaced with petty squabbles of Moffs turned warlords, while the Alliance formed the New Republic.
Elias, in the emergence of a delayed bureaucratic transfer, was promoted for gallantry in combat at Hoth, and was given the billet of Staff Sergeant in the New Republic Army, with an operational detachment under the provisional undermanned 2nd Battalion of the 6th Pathfinder Regiment. Now subordinate to the battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Lance Thereon, a hero of the War, Elias was charged with the new normal operations. Blend in, gather intelligence, and don’t let anyone know your allegiance to the New Republic.
Granted just because I made a Storm Trooper doesn't necessarily mean it's gonna be shoot-and-run 24/7. I presume there'll be some combat, though. Think of my dude as more of tactical reassurance were we to need to eliminate some filthy daemons.
Demeanour: Indoctrinated at a young age, Nathan’s driving motivation is undying service to the Emperor and his superiors, with a certain underlying pride and honor. This pride often shows, his tangents of the Emperor’s goodwill are a staple of his speech when given downtime. It is a matter of honor for him to defend these statements. But make no mistake, he is cold and calculating, and will not pass up the chance to defeat an enemy while they’re down, a lesson taught in his years as a Progena.
Specialty: Asymmetrical Tactics & Maneuvers
Rank: Tempestor Corporal
Description: Standing at a respectable 5’10” and weighing in at a stocky 162 lbs, Nathan is well-built, the regimen which was ingrained into him by the Drill Abbots keeping him fit. He has sandy blonde hair kept into a neat high-and-tight buzzcut, and an utter absence of facial hair as a result of grooming standards imposed. His eyes are a dull blue.
Upon his person he wears at the most basic the crimson fatigue jumpsuit, the staple of the Inquisitorial Storm Troopers, with a distinct lack of markings that normally would adorn such a uniform, with only the two stripes in a upward-facing chevron stitched on its left shoulder. Additionally, he wears only the standard steel-toed combat boots upon his feet, keeping accessories to the minimum.
His armor consists of the standard carapace set. Alloyed of armaplas and ceramite, stenciled in a dull greyish-black, it is standard for every Storm Trooper to arm themselves with. The primary and most protective of the set is the chestplate, encompassing the entire upper torso. Secondary is that which protects the groin and shoulders, being the aptly named pelvic plates and pauldrons, respectively. Lastly is the helmet, perhaps being the most important of each piece. Curved around the cranium and extending to the nape of the neck, the helmet protects primarily from shrapnel, but can take limited abuse from other weaponry. The helmet, with its accessories, is padded with synthetic hide for comfort and equipped with top-of-the-line electronics, including a target acquisition eyepiece, low-light lenses (night vision), and a short-range vox-caster suite.
History: Born to a commoner family of Cadian descent, Nathan’s first years were spent knowing nothing of his own parents. As the same story for most Progena, his parents were dedicated soldiers, his father an infantry sergeant and his mother a litter-bearer, and true to the story of the Progena still, both perished on the battlefield before Nathan had reached the age of two. Inducted into the Schola Progenium the following year, his primary schooling and basic training began.
Rigorous and grueling, he bent and broke under the Drill Abbots, and much like his comrades, was built up into a fighting machine at the age of merely eleven. His course was decided in the months following. He had no psychic ability to be a psyker, nor the intimidation or aptitude to be a commissar or an arbites, and most definitely not the cunning to become an acolyte. His own skill was lent to his ferocity in battle. But it was not the Imperial Guard, nor the Imperial Navy, to see this. He instead was sponsored by the Inquisition.
Now dictated to be one of the elite Inquisitorial Storm Troopers, his secondary training began. The Drill Abbots now returned and were ever more cruel. Educated further in the tactical application of all equipment at his disposal, along with the maneuvers accompanying, Nathan was molded from a Progena, a blank slate, into a Tempestus Scion, a Storm Trooper.
Shipped off for service, a bureaucratic lull of a year saw him idle, bounced between fortresses and black ships before finally transferred. The Ordo Malleus had called upon him, and he was given a place on the retinue of Inquisitor Makram Gaetano.
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Lildear18
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