The flames burned bright, the crackling of the burning logs providing much needed respite from the cold night. Huddled in clumps around the raging fire were men and women, some wrapped tightly in thick woolen blankets and pressed against the sides of the covered wagons. Here deep within the forest was a caravan, which was made obvious by the wagons laden with goods and the fact that some of those resting were armed, their weapons laying nearby and within arm’s reach.
To provide further protection from both the elements and possible aggressors the wagons were formed into a tight circle, with the campfire in the center. Helping to trap in the warmth of the flames and ward off the beasts that roamed these untamed lands.
Off to the side was a man, based on the length of the cloak he was taller than the average person. He did not hunch around the fire, instead eschewing the warmth to take up a position in the corner, with the firm wooden frame of the wagon at his back, and a long black composite bow firmly in hand. Unlike the others, his attention was always focused, hawk like eyes darting back and forth, scouting for any anomalies.
This man would appear no different than all the rest, but the golden brooch pinned to his chest said differently. The image of a crimson flower, petals adorned with ruby shards and a silver stem, the sigil of House Amyntas. Gold signifying the rank of patriarch, head of the house; Lord Cadeyrn Amyntas, better known throughout the Mercan League as Scholar Amyntas. Warlord of the South, defender of the dark frontier, founder of the temples of healing, and former right hand of the Archon.
“My lord, you have not slept and there is little need for you to take the next watch. The soldiers are perfectly capable of handling the task, you should get some rest.” Emerging from one of the nearby wagons, the man spoke directly to the hooded figure. His tone was deferential, yet with a hint of flightiness under the surface.
“Malakos, according to what I can see, it is you who may be lacking in sleep. I am perfectly aware of the current situation.” The hooded figure shot back immediately; his attention focused on the man called Malakos’s attire. Of note was the wagon from which he had emerged, his well-toned chest lay bare for all to see. If one was to focus there were some barely noticeable red marks, obscured somewhat by his slightly dark olive complexion.
As if on cue, another individual emerged from the wagon, completely unaware of the ongoing conversation. The young man, who had to have been ten years Malakos’s junior had the sense to appear embarrassed, his pale face turning a healthy shade of red within seconds before he promptly excused himself and ran off.
“Commander Maatilani will be returning from her watch, as her adjutant you need to show some restraint. Wake your people, when she returns, you and your men will take the outer perimeter.” The hooded figure slowly rose from his position, dusting off the stray bits of dirt and grass from his cloak. After taking a sip of water from the skin at his waist, the man focused on maintaining his weapons and equipment, taking special care towards the unique bow hanging from his shoulder.
“Understood Lord Amyntas, right away.” It took some time but based on Malakos’s expression, he seemed to have finally realized his current attire in relation to his position. At the very least he had the decency to appear at least a little embarrassed, but the man was a known deviant.
He was flamboyant, lacking in both shame and restraint. However, on the battlefield he was effective, well-liked, and excelled in adapting to changing situations as any capable adjutant should. So long as his bad habits remained personal and away from his professional duties, Cadeyrn was willing to allow some leeway, leaving the responsibility to commander Maatilani.
“You really should stop holding everyone to such a high standard. There are few if any, other than maybe Maatilani who would be as much of a workhorse as you.” Appearing from around the corner with a bottle of mead in hand was yet another unique character, the cheery and upbeat voice with which he spoke was difficult to match with the grizzled and scarred veteran warming his big meaty paws by the fire.
“I mean I have known you for decades old friend, not once have I seen you relax. You know, take a drink, enjoy the company of a woman, or man… if that is to your tastes. Or simply just stare up at the heavens and contemplate our place here. You my friend are always working, either on yet another crazy experiment, or in the day-to-day management of your domain. All I and the others are saying is that sometimes you need to relax… By the way, would you like an apple? Picked them myself this afternoon, still got a couple left if you are interested.” This bear of a man was yet another member of this motley crew, and the oldest of the bunch if excluding the lord himself.
Timeaus, also referred to as “Old Three Claws” on account of the mark running from the crown of his polished skull to the base of his chin. A renowned mercenary in a previous life, the man had been injured when Scholar Amyntas first discovered him on his travels, back when the lord of the south had yet to earn his title, earning his keep at the head of a powerful mercenary band.
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Timeaus, an experienced hunter, trapper, and scout was a perfect fit among these soldiers of fortune. The man had however long since fallen into a rut, drowning himself in drink, and throwing himself with reckless abandon into the thick of the fighting. Without The Scholar’s intervention, the suicidal warrior would have long since found his death upon the battlefield.
Luckily, being the new lord of the southern frontier and what was then Temrenos village, convinced the old hunter to tag along, to return to the home he had once abandoned so long ago. Ever since those early days, the old man had gotten along swimmingly with the prickly new lord of the domain. Reuniting with his younger brother and his family had been instrumental in assisting Timeaus in coming to terms with whatever pain it was that haunted him, at least enough that he held some value for his own life.
“Those fruits could be poisonous, so be careful. And as you are aware I have a domain to run, the responsibility over thousands of lives. Which I take very seriously, my responsibilities are to provide for the people, and the dangers present along the frontier have yet to cease. To lower one’s guard would be to court death?” Lord Amyntas took a deep breath, steadying his breathing. Taking special care to ensure his cloak was tightly fastened before slipping the quiver of arrows snugly into his sash, followed by a quick stopover at the fire for a bit of warmth to combat the early winter chill.
“Do you recall the state Temrenos was in a decade ago? My friend, the place could not even be considered a village, much of the infrastructure was ruined and the people a mere fraction of what it possessed a century ago. Now we supply others with the best timber, medicines, and horses in Eastern Syroneika. I took a backwater, a ruined frontier trading post and created the envy of all those backstabbing fools at court.” Although scholar Amyntas’s tone and voice did not rise, everyone present could understand the feelings of frustration and sense of accomplishment those words held.
“Of course, I understand all of that, better than anyone else here. I was born in that village; I remember the time before the forest grew dark and the beasts vicious. My family suffered in those times of pain, where scrounging up enough to fill our belly was herculean task. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for us Temrenosians, by providing food and protection you have saved countless families. However, that does not mean you should work yourself to death.” Timeaus glided across the grassy surface, contrary to his enormous size and frame, the man could mask his steps with relative ease.
Cadeyrn made no attempt to deflect the meaty paw which slammed down onto his right shoulder. Timeaus then proceeded to reel in the reluctant lord, giving him a crushing bear hug, lifting him so that his toes were barely brushing the dirt. From the reaction of the surrounding members present this would seem to be a regular occurrence, which spoke volumes of the closeness and types of personal interactions between this Lord and his personal retainers. The Lord put up no resistance, struggling only slightly against his bonds.
“The Jormani forest was and still is a land of death. All Syroneika knows of the hardiness and warlike tendencies of those who live on the frontier, but not of the sacrifices we make. Your leadership granted us safety and security, a chance at a better life against all the odds. I know that better than most my friend, but you are the town’s beating heart. We do not wish to witness you working yourself to an early grave, all we ask is that you look after yourself, and relax every so often. That is all.” With that parting remark, Timeaus released his grip and the two pulled away from one another.
“I understand your concerns, but I cannot feel confident in this excursion. The summons to the capital, and the archon’s sickness are worrying signs. Temrenos’s revenue has been up these last few years, increased sales of horses, timber, and medicine have filled the public coffers to bursting. Much of which was spent on infrastructure and public works projects as you are all aware, but that much gold flowing attracts attention. I fear the timing of this summons, and the increased pirate activity blocking the narrows and our sea route are not coincidences. Therefore, I insist we always follow proper security procedures, one sleeping watchman can lead to the death of everyone here.” Cadeyrn made sure to pan around, his gaze landing on every individual present before returning to the maintenance of his weapons.
As he sharpened one of his axes, he pulled out a scrap of folded paper and tossed it over to Timeaus. “Our agents have reported worrying levels of military buildup in the capital and to the north. The nobles have sent out the call, drafting those of fighting age, in addition to growing their food stockpiles. All signs point towards an onset of war, who they are planning to attack, that is the question. We will know more once we arrive in Merlabria, it could be an invasion of the Althai confederation, but I fear there is more to it than that.”
The Scholar grabbed a couple of daggers, hiding one within the heel of his boot, and the other in a leather strap around his left thigh. “All of you just need to keep your eyes peeled, do not let your guard down and focus on the task at hand… and Timeaus, wash yourself in the next river we come across, you stink to high heaven. Lay off the drink a bit, I fear I will need you at full strength for the foreseeable future.”
Timeaus understanding the implications said nothing but proceeded to shoulder his bow with drink in hand and wandered off into the forest. The others followed suit, finishing off their preparations and getting ready for the return of the previous watch, each hoping for another uneventful night.