Shu — Roleplayer Guild

“So, these are what Lord Hastlon sends me.”

There was a heavy groan as the supply wagon and weary horse were taken away. The supplies would be offloaded and placed with the quartermaster and the horse and wagon kept at the camp for the time being. The fifteen hirelings all stood in a muddled bunch in the center of the camp now, an open area large enough to fit four tents and encircled by a small formation of crackling torches. Aside from the on-duty sentries, who all remained at their posts, the occupants of the camp had gathered round - most coming in behind Breck who stood facing the assembled adventurers and mercenaries. Some of Breck’s men wore casual clothing, tunics and breeches suited for a commoner after a long days work, though most were fully dressed in their armor with their weapons at hand. Iliskra could see they all wore the same standard suits of chain mail and scale mail typical of men-at-arms of the Dalelands. Some stared and cocked their heads in curiosity while others narrowed their eyes in suspicion beneath their hoods and helms. Iliskra’s head turned slightly as her eyes passed over as much of the camp as she could see. It was surprisingly organized; walking paths were clear and wide, crates, barrels, and trunks all neatly stacked under sheds and lean-to’s, and the tents were all adequately spaced while not taking up excess room. Camp fires were kept low to avoid billowing smoke clouds and the men and women visible to the eye all looked fit and ready for whatever might come their way.

Breck himself was an imposing man, even given his otherwise unremarkable appearance. To most he would pass as a common ranger or trail scout. Iliskra had learned a long time ago never to judge a person by what was on the outside. The humblest and most fragile-looking maid could be a witch, a brawny and jovial woodcutter a master assassin. This whiskered, cowled man before Iliskra and the others had an “air” about him, he was not to be toyed with or taken upon without sincerity. It was not so much a threatening aura as a simple unspoken reality of “do not test me”.

“Well, I must say I was expecting a few more of you.” Brick said in a voice that was low and raspy, the corners of his mouth turning down somewhat. 

“We were more in number,” the Helmite woman spoke up, “but we were ambushed on our way here by a band of thugs. We lost four of our own and the driver was also killed.” Several others nodded in affirmation.

Breck’s heavy brows raised up beneath his cowl, “I see. Well, you all are here and alive which means those thugs lie dead in your wake. But now I must send out scouts to search for a bandit lair anywhere nearby. This camp remaining safe and unfound is my grave of concern.”

Breck turned to face a pair of men nearby, both adorned similarly to the one that had crossed the hirelings’ path earlier after the short battle - studded leather armor, heavy cloaks, and lightly armed. With a few short waves of his hand Breck said something just short and low enough for Iliskra to miss, the two men nodding together and scurrying past in the direction of the front gate.

Once the duo were out of sight Breck looked back to the new arrivals, clasping his hands behind his back. 
“I will give you a formal enough introduction,” Breck said levelly, “I am Breck. I am the ‘commander’ - as it were - of this encampment. I direct and oversee all actions within this area and in relation to Lord Hastlon’s endeavors in Scardale Town. I send him regular reports of our efforts here and his guiding hand from afar directs me in the greater prize that is reclaiming our dale’s capital from the malignant and chaotic forces that have claimed and defile it.”

Breck took a moment of pause, all eyes looked to him - even those of his own men. “Those here in this encampment, which now includes all of you, take orders from me. You will perform what tasks you are given, regardless of how big or small they may seem to you, and in turn you will receive regular pay for your successes. Just know that you will be paid by merit and not by your mere presence here.”

Another pause, Breck then continued, “I expect the fullest discipline in my camp. Food, water, and ale will be evenly rationed. There will be no revelry or raucous behavior that may draw attention from afar. And there will be a sundown curfew barring those standing guard or handling a special task. Anyone caught stealing, stirring up trouble or attempting subterfuge, or otherwise being a dangerous nuisance here in my encampment will be executed.” Breck smirked, stopping again and surveying those before him as his words hung in the air.
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