Lord Gervðas? Guaranteed stipend? Client rental? Is this guy a mole? He should be guarding the post rather than suggesting insights - the ploy. The pay we paid should be worth our while - not wasting time and resources. This unit. This individual. From a mercenary group per se. Every now and then, he tries to sneak in and disrupts the plan that the war council has worked hard on.

"What are you trying to suggest, lad?" I speak with a definite annoyance.

Before he registers his mouth to utter a breath, I shush the man. I then question him about specific things like: "Aren't you a mercenary, young man? It doesn't seem like it. What are these sorts of: guaranteed stipend and client rental, that you were talking about; hmm?" pertaining to his connections with Lord Gervðas.

"With all due respect, your highness, may I not look like it but I am indeed also a soldier for hire. I have a spear on my hand, a pauldron attached to my shoulder, and armor covering my body… is this adequate to be verified?" whereas the goof reacts in a nervous manner.

"What is your name, hoax…" asking, as I spit under my breath the last part.

"Międzyboży (Miend-ze-bo-zhe), sire."

"Alright, here's the deal. Międzyboży, tell me everything. Everything you know about your organization. Way of living, allegiance, religion, prudence, and governance. After that, I'll be the one to judge whether you're authentic or really are a charlatan." I offer this man a suggestion.

The man recollects himself where he puts a confide in his articulation, reciting: "I am currently residing in Đormogas and I work as a martial instructor during my mundane fixture. I am partaking in this gig right now because I’ve heard that the pay is very high so I gave it a try while I’m at it…” where he is getting comfortable speaking with us, exuding his positivity and his jovial tune during his rhetoric.

“Okay,... out with it…” exhorting the man to spit some more about himself and his group, as I sincerely signify.

“Most of the mercenary guild members are foreigners. Rarely, a Đormogas native would join us - to the peer since the slots in the employment are scantily occupied. Đormogas people then tend to seek employment outside the jurisdiction of the borders in order to feed their bellies and two.” he gasps for air and stops.

I wait for him to continue in just a peek of an eye, he gets the idea of my denoting: “... when it comes to how we worship most of us are living concordantly whether you are a Croisian, an Aslab, a Romullan, whatsoever. The government doesn’t matter much since it practices an egalitarian-cosmopolitanism and as long as the populace keeps waging their blood. The money in exchange for the service, which is this.” as what the man refers to is their contractual employment.

"Do you want to know about this system, milord?" Międzyboży continues by asking a rather ambiguous question.

"Hmm, what is it? Tell me." I approve of his suggestion.

"The monetary system inside Đormogas. The ones that are convoluted to you." as he follows.

"Oh! I'm all ears." as it fascinates me, where my pique towards the content enthralls me, showing my enchantment.

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"Guaranteed stipend is the allowance which is covered by the authority themselves during the procurement of the task provided by the client and so on and so forth - the preparation needed. A wad bag upfront. Tit for tat. Quid pro quo. In layman's terms, it is called 'give and take'... thus, operators enlisted at that time eventually would not be taking odd jobs and part-time tasks in order for them to get adequate rest and energy at hand. A couple of months or so, depending on the austerity of the mission. And if it's urgent, then at least three weeks maximum before the commencement."

"Client rental, on the other hand, is a monthly salary taken by each individual soldier during operations. By then, it is shouldered by the patron of and in itself. Additionally, once again, varying to the contract; the remainder or the surviving cluster may or may not plunder loots to the situated tasks."

This is a great lead! Perhaps, we should consider buying their services when the time is right. And honestly, expatriate troops from Inglovia and common enemies towards the Caliph won't be expecting that they eventually handle the heavy lifting for us. I am very grateful for the information he gave to me. This is good to know, otherwise, we will have such a predicament eventually when services have run out. If ever no one wants to accept our rental, Đormogas will be the last - out of the options.

"Hey…"

"Sire, I have a name and that is- -..."

"Yeah, I know your name is Międzyboży. Here, take this." I hurl a wooden practicing stave at him, as he catches it attentively.

"Play on!" I instigate while I ready myself for a position.

"Play on? What is the meaning of this?, milord?" Międzyboży seems confused about what I said to him.

"Yeah, let's play. En garde!"

"Alright, Lord Aisla. As you wish, then." as he also prepares himself.

"First one who hits his opponent takes the point." I instruct him on the stipulation, where we both cover our faces with visors in our helm, preparing for our stances.

He lunges with a forward thrust as I parry it with ease and nearly hit the tip of my face guard. I retaliate with a thrust of my own. He ducks and recollects his footing which I don't expect for him to do. I chase him around, during his retreating and collectively juke all of my attacks whilst he is on the disadvantage. This stooge has battle experience, no wonder, how he survived this long. Under a consensus for facing a noble like myself, the rules of the game is 'fencing' - without introducing clarifications. In a close quarter exchange, he never uses his feet to trip me up.

"Nice stab there, milord.. hehe.." he chuckles, as renews his poise.

I reply with a discreet smile, uttering: "Oh, really? I don't anticipate for you to keep up my pace in just a series of exchanges." as I open up my position, inciting him to advance on me.

"Guess what, milord? This attack would make your armor skirt shit up. Well, including all over your trousers." Międzyboży gives me a fair warning, threatening me with a slight tenacity due to his delivery on his face.

I blink once, he moves closer three steps away. I blink twice, right now, he is in front of me - point blank. He hacks - bashing my helm in a lenient manner and let the clattering sound does the rest. I don't have a moment to react with his sorcery, per se. As of yet, I wish that I was daydreaming. Not enough time to wince or to blink for a third time. I'm abashed and their abilities are beyond Kehina's. Magic is an overstatement here and I would have to say that: 'Magic is part of the physiology and of the nature.' It is because I have overseen it.

"You're a real deal, Międzyboży. Forgive me for underestimating your skills. I really am." asking for amends, as I recognize his talents, genuinely reaffirm whom I am working with.

He smiles, seeing the brimming gleam on his face, as he seems elated; confirming and assessing the doubt I had in him. He then responds with a genuflection: "I am not worthy of your praises, milord…" taking the knee, the tip of the staff points to the ground.

I lend him a hand and I say: "Your might alone would expunge any insurgencies against the crown. I'm putting all the coins on your service. Welcome aboard, Międzyboży."

BUT, ... one thing seems to be unclear and dubious. Why did he utter not long ago the name of the Augur? What is his connection to him? Międzyboży and Gervþas. They don't apparently seem right.