The pair of young women stepped inside a run-down large cabin and were hit with a multitude of different scents. Most importantly to them was the smell of freshly oiled steel. Louresa nudged her friend and leaned in, “See? I told you. Green as grass. Let’s go inside already, we’ve seen more than enough.” Clair, hearing this, walked forwards with her chin tilted upwards until she caught the gazes of her surrounding gathered acquaintances. Many men shut their nose and even eyes as the women passed by, hoping to escape the heavy scent moving among them. The pride she felt was much diminished as the stench simply settled down, unmoving in the still air of the cabin as Clair stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“Louresa.” Clair whispered.

Louresa answered loudly. “Yeah?”

“Did you take a bath like I asked you?” Clair whispered again.

Louresa scoffed and rolled her eyes, puffing out her chest and announcing her reply. “Hell no. Noblemen don’t need to bathe, we’re clean from birth to death. I’m not a lowborn like you, Clair. No offense.”

“Ah.” Clair cringed and muscled her way through the glares of those around them. Her cheeks were bright red, entire face heating up as the embarrassment set in.

“Why are you asking?”

The man she was courting, Garth, looked at the pair with a grimace on his face and clear distaste in his eyes. She felt her lips tremble. “No reason. No reason at all.” She pushed open the door between them and their shared destiny.

“Rooms to the left and right of you, choose one and take off your gear. Bring it to me when you finish stripping it off. Clothes have been provided if you have none yourselves.” Clair and Louresa’s attention snapped to the man in front of them. He hadn’t bothered to look up as they entered or when speaking to them and instead stared down at the paper below him, biting his nail as he mulled. The young women looked at each other and shrugged.

Louresa pointed left. Clair nodded and walked to the right. Both women began the process of stripping off their equipment. Louresa, being the more experienced of the two, had taken off the armor and weapons she wore and strode out of her room first, fully dressed. She walked to the man sitting at the desk and reached out her hand for a firm shake, lightly coughing into her fist. The handshake was not reciprocated and he continued to stare at his desk. Somewhat disgruntled by his lack of manners she pushed forwards and began to speak quickly. “Name’s Louresa, family title is Dawnbreaker. Great great grandfather entered service to his lord as a paige in his retinue during the second War of The Crag and was promoted to knight by king Arnedolus himself. He later received a bite from a third generation Warm and became a fourth-generation vampire. May I know who you are?” The man looked up in interest, eyebrows shooting up in surprise before he could mask his expression properly.

“Well, Louresa, my name is Brand and I’m a courtier from Midetown down by the capital. It’s truly a pleasure to meet someone like you in a backwater like this. Before I inspect what equipment you’ve brought with you I’d like to ask some questions. Do you have a destrier with you or another horse suitable for riding into battle?”

“No Ser, but I do have a pack mule for carrying my own gear with me.” Louresa stood straight, attempting to further increase the appearance of her height and bulk. Brand raised his eyebrow at the sight and continued.

“Mhm. To be expected. I’m presuming you’re a sixth or seventh generation Warm on your great great grandfather’s side?” Brand scratched his head with his quill and marked something on the paper below.

“Aye Sir, kept most of the strength and some healing but not the aging or the hatred of the sun. Hoping to receive the last two as a reward when my service is over.” Brand nodded.

“I’ll mark you down for extra rations on account of that. And how good are you with leading? Any experience or just training and theory?”

Louresa shook her head. “No experience, but I have training, yes.”

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“We’ll make an officer out of you yet miss…” Brand looked down at his sheet and smiled. “Miss Louresa.” He reached out his hand and smiled, offering and receiving a warm handshake. “Let's get a good look at that armor now shall we? Put it on the table and I can start.”

Louresa beamed with pride as she gently laid out her chainmail and linen arming coat, resting her new helmet on top of the pile. “It’s all old but still more than sturdy enough to be used harshly. Same stuff that great great grandpa I mentioned wore after being promoted to knighthood. Enchantments need a bit of charge to work as good as they used to but it's still a fine piece of kit.”

Brand nodded and started his inspection with the chainmail Hauberk underneath the helmet. “No rust, rings don’t appear to be breaking apart. Enchantments are lacking in power but everything you need to survive is there. This isn’t locally made, probably looted from wherever your ancestors went during their campaigns.” He stopped and stared with intense focus, then blinked rapidly. “Look at the belly plating. Can’t think of any place in the country where pieces of plate armor would’ve been attached to the chainmail like this. The arming coat also doesn’t look native, must be looted as well. This style of coif is the one thing that isn’t foreign out of the bunch but it’s even older than the rest.” His eyes went wide and lips pressed together tightly. “It has a mouth and nose covering popular in the early inter-warring period between the city states and merchant empires. This was a relic and hand me down even in the time of your great great grandfather. Are you sure its metallurgy is up to standard?” He stood and stared at the armor splayed before him, eyes bulging at the sight before him.

“Yes, all the metal is up to standard, ‘ad a blacksmith check on it and make sure it's all composed correctly and whatnot. The coifs the only one that might be a bit worse for wear, but it’ll work.” Louresa’s face changed from a wide grin into a small frown, eyebrows knitting themselves together. She knew what she owned was old but hadn’t expected it to be anything more than a generation or two behind.

Brand caught on to the change in her expression. “Trust me when I say you aren’t badly equipped or under protected. You’ll do just fine, and this campaign is just another skirmish with the necromancer cults over in the northern mountain pass. Now let's see the other things you brought with you, I can’t imagine they’re any older than the coif.”

Louresa put down her longsword and shield on the table with a thump. She attempted to stop her frown, and subconsciously rubbed her index finger with her thumb as he started to go over her weapons. Brand slid the longsword out of its scabbard and peered closely at its edges and hilt. “Longsword is of excellent quality; the enchantments and their purpose aren’t something I can determine but they appear to be charged and in working order. The shield…” He put a thumb to its face and rubbed gently, flakes falling off and crumbling as they hit the floor. “It's quite old as well. The strap here is very clearly meant to go over the shoulder opposite to the shield itself and is a model example of one from the older manuscripts dating back to… well, I suppose you don’t care too much about the specifics, Louresa.” Louresa nodded confidently. Her shoulders relaxed and her rubbing ceased. Brand continued, taking her nod as an invitation to press forwards. “Any polearms sitting outside? Most don’t bring them in on account of the cramped space but I’d like to examine yours if you have one.”

“No Ser. I expected to be issued one when I entered into a retinue.” Brand waved his hand in affirmation and sat down, beginning to write on the now well used sheet of paper. Louresa was satisfied with the way the conversation went and turned to leave. Something else nagged at her but she couldn’t tell what. She stepped out of Brand’s workplace and into the hallway. Her eye twitched and it struck her that she hadn’t spoken a single word of her friend. Clair, who was still noisily attempting to strip the gambeson from her body, was merely a forgotten thought relegated to the back of her mind. “And Ser?” Brand looked up and grunted in acknowledgement. “My good friend, Clair’s her name, is with me. I can personally vouch for her skill.”

Brand rubbed his chin for a moment in thought. “Is she your retainer?”

Louresa smiled. “Could say that, yeah.”

Brand nodded. “Alright.” Brand went back to scribbling on his paper, adding Clair to the pile of words mounting on his sheet. Louresa nodded with satisfaction and stepped fully out of the door. Brand looked up one more time, calling Louresa as she made a fist to knock on Clair’s door. She stopped and listened. “One more thing! We’re leaving in three days. Try to be ready by then.”

Louresa rapped the door. Clair, within the small room, opened after a few moments spent cursing and loudly ruffling her clothes, poking her head into the hallway. “Yeah?”

Louresa smiled. “Told you they’d take us.”

Clair stared at her friend with a blank expression. Seconds later she sighed, shoulders falling and face visibly relaxing. Her frown quickly turned into a grin. “Holy bollocks am I glad you were right again.” The door opened fully, and the pair embraced tightly.

They separated and Louresa tapped Clair’s head with a finger. “Get this in your skull, Clair, we’re destined for something greater than moping around a village for the rest of our lives.” Louresa’s smile grew wider. “We’ll be dining with all those legends I’ve told you about soon.”