With Edwin’s speed and exceptional hearing, evading the Marradi search parties was a simple task. However, his erratic course meant that he immediately left the area the adventurers had prepared with hidden marks they could find, so he grudgingly had to wait until the mid-day sun began burning the fog away a short while later. On the way back to camp he stopped by a small stream to wipe away the most obvious blood and check himself for injuries. There was an arrow sticking from his back again, having found a similar weakness in his armor as the last one, though this one hadn’t penetrated deeply and was much easier to remove. When he made it back to Pel Darni, he would have to have a serious conversation with Master Quinnick. Being shot in the back was getting old quickly.
It was early afternoon when he finally reached the camp, the sentries greeting him cheerfully. His absence had been noted, and his return was welcome news for all. Third battalion was here already, they told him as he stopped for a few words, but second was taking its sweet time, as they had a longer way to go from the opposite side of the enemy division. Thanking them, Edwin continued onwards. As he neared his banner’s area, a familiar voice greeted him.
“Edwin!” Bordan called, rising from where he sat among the others.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Edwin grumbled, marching past them to get to where he’d stashed his backpack.
“Are you alright?” Bordan asked. “What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it!”
Reaching the stack of bags he grabbed his own, stabbing his glaive into the dirt and pulling out his rations. He took a long drink of water and began aggressively chewing on some dried meat while he threw his helmet to the side.
“I bloody tripped, okay?” Edwin called to Bordan who was leaning against a tree a few steps away. “Everything went fine, but when we were retreating I stepped into some cursed animal’s burrow and tripped. By the time I got up the others were gone, and I was lost in our own damn fog. Go ahead, you can say ‘I told you so’.”
“I’m not going to do that,” Bordan said calmly. “You did the right thing, going to help Leswin’s people. I didn’t send anyone to assist them, because I figured if they didn’t call for reinforcements, they could handle it themselves.” Bordan sighed, shaking his head. “With all that’s going on, I’ve turned into a soldier again. I forgot how adventurers are. His job was to hold the path of retreat, so he did just that. In the heat of battle he never even realized that calling for help was an option. As he tells it, if you hadn’t been there, they would’ve been in serious trouble, and we might’ve been surrounded before we got out. So, well done.”
Edwin threw Bordan a suspicious look, but the former soldier seemed nothing but sincere.
“Thanks,” he finally said, taking a final sip and returning his rations to his backpack. “What now?”
“We’ve already finished treating the wounded, so we’re good to go as soon as the General gets here with second battalion. Which could be any moment, but might take a little while longer, depending on how well they got around the Marradi. Come on, sit with us.”
With a sigh, Edwin followed Bordan to where the majority of their cohort was sitting a few of the others scooting to the side to give him room to plonk his armored butt down as he returned Salissa’s questioning look with a reassuring smile.
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“Hey Bordan,” someone called from the other side of the clearing. “Why don’t we have one of those?”
The former soldier leaned forward to follow the pointing finger, then shrugged.
“If you want a pet tree, I’m sure you can ask around for people to help you dig one out. How you transport it is your problem, though, I’m not carrying that.”
Laughter echoed through the forest, but the speaker wasn’t distracted this easily.
“No, that! Why do they get one, but we don’t?”
Craning his neck, Edwin realized the man was pointing at third battalion’s unit banner, the ornamented blue cloth flapping lazily in the light breeze at the center of their formation.
“We’re an auxiliary battalion,” Bordan said with a shrug. “We’re not really a permanent formation, you know?”
“So we’re not allowed one?” someone else asked, clearly disappointed.
Bordan looked around, his brows rising at the disgruntled looks.
“I mean, I don’t think that there’s a rule that says we can’t have one. It’s just that with everything moving so quickly, nobody bothered to make one.”
“So we can have one if we want to?” a hopeful voice asked.
“Sure.”
“Can we pick what it looks like?”
“I mean, it should probably just be a dragon with a scroll…” Seeing the faces of his guildmates fall, Bordan sighed. “Sure, we can pick what it looks like. Once we’re back with the train, Lord Amos can requisition it from the logistics section. They should have someone who can make it.”
Edwin couldn’t help but chuckle as a hundred grown men and women, hardened warriors all, cheered at the opportunity to design their own flag. Then the suggestions started coming, and he realized why they were so interested in it.
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“No, we’re not doing Duke Marrad getting stabbed either!” Bordan said, exasperated. “Even if that were an acceptable thing to put on a flag, which it is not, it’s much too complicated. We need a simpler design, one that you can recognize at range. You don’t want to have to explain it to everyone, do you?”
The one to suggest it (for the third time, with slightly different details) sat down to pout, and Bordan crossed his arms.
“Look, if you can’t come up with anything serious, we’re doing a dragon with a scroll on a green background. I don’t care that it’s boring.”
“But you said yourself that the battalion banners are the ones that are unique,” someone reminded him. “So if anything, only the Guildmaster’s battalion with third division should use the dragon.”
“Then give me a proper suggestion,” Bordan said, throwing up his arms. “You have time until the general catches up and we need to leave. Go!”
“How about a pig with a scroll in the mouth?” Someone offered.
“So now our war banner is advertisement for your favorite tavern?” Bordan huffed to a round of chuckling.
“You have to admit that it fits,” the speaker doubled down. “The ‘Pig and Scroll’ is something unique to us, and it’s easy to recognize.”
Bordan sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t you want it to be at least a little… imposing? Nobody is going to be afraid of ‘The Pigs’.”
“Maybe instead of a pig we use a direboar?” a female adventurer suggested. “Everyone else has animals in theirs, right? Feels fitting for us to have a direbeast.”
The clearing was quiet. “That’s… actually a good idea,” Bordan admitted, sounding surprised. “Green background, for the color of the guild. A direbeast because we’re adventurers and for the similarity to the guild emblem we can have it carry a scroll in its mouth.”
“Not a scroll,” someone threw in, “a skull! The ‘pig and scroll’ in peace, the ‘boar and skull’ in war!”
Bordan opened his mouth, then shut it when the clearing drowned in cheering, laughter and arguments.
“Let’s put it to a vote,” he finally said when people had calmed down a little. “Is everyone here? Actually, Edwin, could you run over to Colonel Harrick and ask him to relieve our sentries? I’ll never hear the end of it if they don’t get a say. Okay, so this is how we’re doing this…”
--- ----- ---
When second battalion arrived half an hour later and the advance force began marching again, the Pel Darni Direboars of ninth auxiliary were in high spirits.