Private Tales The Next Chapter..

[Agatha]

The Company rose early in preparation for the day ahead. Cookfires were lit, rations doled out. The icy glow of moonlight gave way to the burnished glow of the rising sun as the men ate, readying themselves for the long march to come. No-one enjoyed early starts, but you took the good with the bad. Besides, this was enemy country now. Staying in one spot for too long was almost like asking for trouble to find you.

Though, there were some among the Blackshields who would argue that trouble found you regardless of what you did to prevent it.

Only a matter of time and place, thought Agatha, studying herself in a mirror that looked like it had seen better days. Just like me. Having spent most of the night pouring over reports, there had been little time for sleep. Splashing her face with water, the she-orc dressed and breakfasted alone. Toki wafted in and out like a bad smell, bringing her news and fair tidings.

Redbad departed in the meanwhile, to scout along the route the Company would be taking.

The one thing you don't do is march blind. An old lesson, steeped in military history. Agatha had never been one to repeat the mistakes of the past, willingly or otherwise.

Leaving her tent to be dismantled by those she trusted, the Captain made her way down to Mender's. The Chief Medicae didn't seem surprised to see her. 'Need something?' she asked, sipping at a steaming cup of coffee. 'Let me guess. Having trouble sleeping?' Agatha sniffed.

'Something like that,' she said, wagging a finger at the pot on Mender's desk. 'Got any of that going spare?'

Nodding, Mender went fishing for another cup.

'How's the new orderly doing?'

'Well enough,' she replied, neither here nor there. 'Questioned her a bit. Seems the lass knows her onions, though I'm sure she still has a fair ways to go.' Pouring Agatha's coffee, Mender said, 'Yo, Rori! Fancy a brew?'

 

[Rori]

Rori quickly found herself knee-deep in the responsibilities that came with her role as an orderly. Mender, had put her to work fetching supplies and tending to whatever tasks needed doing. She was almost certain that most of her requests had simply been to test her, but she had managed thus far not to embarrass herself. Rori welcomed the challenges and the distraction of the work, and each task chipped away at the lingering doubts in her mind. Perhaps she really could find her purpose here.

She was in the midst of grinding dried herbs into a mortar bowl when the captain entered the tent. Rori straightened, setting down her pestle and wiping her hands on a cloth, her mossy eyes meeting Agatha's. A subtle warmth touched her cheeks, but she steadied herself and offered a nod in greeting.

"Morning, Captain," she acknowledged, her voice carrying a hint of newfound confidence. Rori's gaze then shifted to Mender as she poured a cup of coffee. The aroma of the brew filled the tent, and Rori's fatigue seemed to momentarily lift. It was a welcome invitation.

"Yes please. Thank you," she said politely, accepting the offer with a gracious smile. The stiffness from the previous days' trials and the bruises that blemished her pale skin were fading, and she moved with a little more ease. As she joined the impromptu meeting, her gaze shifted between the two orc women. They made it difficult not to feel so meagre. Rori was a slender thing, these women were.. well, lean.

"Will we be on the move today..?" she asked, her eyes shifting between the two as she gently blew hot steam from her cup. Here, she was still a little too close to home for her comfort.

 

[Agatha]

Fishing a nearby camp stool out from behind a pile of medical supplies, Agatha joined the two medicaes by the desk. Mender had found a tin cup from somewhere, and was already in the middle of pouring her a cup of coffee when Rori settled down with them.

'Morning, Rori,' Agatha replied, taking the steaming cup from Mender with a grateful nod. 'You settling in okay?'

Sitting down, the Captain took a sip of her brew. It was almost routine, this little catch-up. Agatha and Mender went way back. Before the Company, before the events that had seen their raiding party disbanded. More like destroyed. Few had survived the curse that had befallen their group, Mender and Agatha being two. The third, Rulgak, her sister, had parted ways with her shortly after.

She was a part of the Knights of Anathaeum now. A blacksmith of all things. How she had gone from fighting to fixing was beyond Agatha, but she wholeheartedly supported Rulgak in her endeavours. Sides, she kind of liked the Dawn Captain, Helena.

Another face I haven't seen in a while, she thought, noticing the look in Rori's eye.

Smiling at her, Agatha nodded. 'An hour's time. Two, tops! I want us away from here before the High King sends his war dogs to sniff us out.' They weren't the only mercenaries around, after all. Following the scrap in Taernsby, High King Brannigan had taken measures to wipe their cohort out wholesale. Including Cato's.

Almost like he doesn't know who he's dealing with.

'I've sent Redbad and Graves off already. Plan on crossing the Sanguine at Stonebridge, before they get the chance to box us in. Odds are they'll already have people waiting for us by the time we get there. In which case, we'll have to fight our way through.' Agatha shrugged. 'Just a heads-up. For both of you.'

Agatha glanced at Rori.

'Have you equipped yourself from the stores yet?'

 

[Rori]

Her eyes found Agatha's over the rim of her cup as she sipped carefully, swallowing down the first comforting mouthful of coffee with a sigh. "Uh, I think so. Yes, thank you." she answered, her gaze darting to Mender, hoping the medicae wouldn't immediately disagree and claim her to be hopeless.

Agatha's mention of the impending departure drew her attention back however, and Rori's mossy eyes widened. The prospect of leaving the immediate vicinity of her past was a welcome one, but the warning of potential conflict with the High King's forces made her pulse quicken. Violence so soon?

"Equipped, myself?.." she asked hesitantly, hoping that didn't mean what she thought it meant. Her head shook regardless, she had nothing on her other than the clothes she wore and the cup from which she drank. "N-no. Not yet." she cleared her throat.

"I.." her cheeks burned so hot her hair rivalled the fiery tresses that framed her face. She swallowed what she'd been about to say and lifted her chin. "I'll do so straight away."

 

[Agatha]

Hiding her smile behind a tin cup, Agatha nodded. 'Good.' Sipping her coffee, the Captain shared a look with Mender. The physician had a smile that mirrored hers. 'You, uh, ever held a weapon before, Rori?' She asked, recognising just how nervous her new orderly was at the prospect of potentially having to use one. Agatha had another question on her mind, though.

Have you ever killed before, Rori?

Deciding some things were better left unasked, Agatha shared another look with Mender. Her friend nodded, cleared her throat. 'It's just a precaution,' she said. 'Should the worst ever come to pass, the Captain here wants us prepared. To fight, if needs be, but mainly to protect our charges.' Mender gestured at the empty tent around them. Most of her work involved dealing with the occasional bout of sickness in the ranks. Colds, flu, weeping sores- that sort of thing.

Rori's would, too, if she had the minerals. Mender believed she did.

'Should the time ever come where you do need to swing a blade, just remember: the rest of the Company's already dead. So, you'd best make a good show of it.' Smiling, Mender nodded reassuringly. 'Don't mind her.' Agatha chimed in, grinning despite herself. 'Gallows humour. Keeps us sane. Well, mostly.' She shot a look at Mender.

The medicae wriggled her fingers.

 

[Rori]

Rori's eyes shifted between Agatha and Mender, catching the unspoken exchange. Subtle as a brick, she mused, suppressing the urge to huff in exasperation. The last thing she wanted was to be useless, or to give in to the creeping tendrils of hopelessness. There was a desire within her to prove that she was more than her past dictated, and simultaneously, a longing to believe it herself.

Perhaps looking less terrified would be a good place to start.

She'd been about to respond to Agatha when Mender interjected, initially offering comfort before delivering a stark reality check. Rori managed to shift her expression of terror into one of concern, her gaze flickering between the two orc women. How could they approach the prospect of fighting and killing with anything but trepidation?

"Right..." Rori's response carried a touch of dry humour, a thin veil over the unease that had settled within her. These women, with their nonchalant approach to the impending possibility of violence, were utterly unhinged.

The idea of facing violence, of potentially taking a life, sank like a stone in her stomach. How could anyone not feel trepidation at the thought of such a profound shift in their existence? It wasn't merely about weapons and combat; it was about crossing a moral threshold she had never dared to approach. The notion of preparing to fight felt like an impending storm, casting shadows across the fledgling sense of purpose she had started to build.. If it came to that, Rori suspected she would simply brace herself for death. She had faced violence before, and she could even admit to having wished for the death of another, but she had never attempted to wield it herself.

Setting her cup down, Rori cleared her throat, summoning a fleeting smile in an attempt to mask her dread. "I suppose I better learn fast..." Her words carried a mixture of determination and resignation, acknowledging the harsh reality of the perilous path she had now chosen to walk. "If someone could show me how to hold a blade without killing myself in the process, that'd be fantastic."

 

[Agatha]

'I'm sure someone around camp will be willing to teach you the fundamentals,' Mender drawled, her voice monotonous as she stared pointedly at Agatha. Oh? We're doing that, huh? 'Sure. Why not? Not like I've got anything going on right now,' she replied, her tone halfway playful. Between the paperwork piling up on her desk and the prospect of imminent annihilation, Agatha liked to think she was handling the situation well.

Time would be the ultimate decider.

Embracing the burn, the Captain saw off most of her coffee before swishing the dregs on the ground. 'Thanks for the brew,' she said, making to stand. Her gaze fell on Rori. 'I'll be outside, when you're ready.' Turning on her heel, Agatha brushed aside the tent flap in her way. She could still picture Rori's expression, the way her eyes seemed to ask a thousand questions without ever touching her lips.

About the morality of the business she now found herself a part of, about the killing aspect of it. Agatha wondered whether she had regarded the other side of the coin. She was, after all, an orderly. A medicae, responsible for the lives of the men and women who ended up in her care.

Did she know what it meant to watch them die? How it felt to witness the life leave their bodies, despite her best efforts to save them?

Agatha didn't envy Mender none, just as she knew Mender didn't envy her.

We all have our crosses to bear, the she-orc thought, admiring the efficiency with which her warriors set about their tasks. A wry, half-heard joke made her smile slightly. Then, Rori was by her shoulder, and the smile was gone. 'All set?' She asked, knowing she didn't really have to. Rori was efficient, too.

'Let's go make a warrior out of you.'

 

[Rori]

Rori met Agatha's gaze with a resolute nod. "Right. Warrior." she replied again, her voice carrying a mix of determination and a touch of nerves. "Warrori." she snorted at a terrible attempt at humour. "..Sorry."

Following Agatha through the bustling camp, Rori soon found herself standing before an array of weapons laid out for inspection. Swords and spears of various lengths, axes gleaming with a dangerous edge, and bows with quivers of arrows—all presented the multifaceted nature of combat. The weight of each weapon seemed to whisper tales of battles long past, and Rori felt a certain reverence in the air.

Her fingers trailed over the feathered flights of a quiver of arrows, clearly captivated by their elegance. However, the impracticality of mastering archery in the limited time available wasn't lost on her. It would take considerable dedication, and in a close-quarters confrontation, the skill was bloody pointless.

Her gaze fell upon a set of long daggers, the twin blades glinting in the ambient light. An unspoken question lingered in her eyes as she glanced at Agatha. The daggers seemed more manageable, perhaps less reliant on extensive training, and more suitable for someone who needed a swift and efficient means of self-defence - something she prayed she would not require the use of.

"What about...?" Rori began, her words trailing off as her eyes questioned Agatha, seeking guidance on the choice before her.

 

[Agatha]

Rori had doe-eyes. Pretty, like the rest of her. 'A dagger is always a good place to start,' Agatha nodded, plucking one of the daggers from the pile. Weighing it in the palm of her hand, the she-orc offered the weapon hilt-first to Rori. The blade came with a simple sheath, though, Agatha made sure to pick out the dagger's twin, just in case. 'I would recommend you choose a longer weapon, too. Never know when you might need the extra reach.'

Smiling, she grabbed a spear, presented it to woman stood next to her.

'Easy enough to use. Light. Manoeuvrable. Can't go wrong with a spear.' Indeed, as a youth, one of the first weapons Agatha had ever possessed was a spear. Taller than her by a full head, it could be held this way and that. Couple it with a shield and you were in for some smooth sailing. Assuming you knew how to use them.

'How about it, Warrori?' Agatha struggled to get the word out. She laughed to hide her embarrassment, blushing at how stupid it sounded coming from her lips. 'Want me to teach you?'

 

[Rori]

Rori's eyes followed the Captain's movements as she selected the dagger from the pile. The glint of the blade in Agatha's palm held a certain allure, and she couldn't help but be captivated by the simplicity and potential power it represented. The offer of the dagger, hilt-first, was met with a nod as she accepted the weapon. It was heavier than she expected.

Agatha's recommendation for a longer weapon prompted her to consider the options, and as the she-orc presented a spear, describing its virtues, Rori took comfort in her wisdom and experience in such things.

Agatha's attempt at the terrible nickname caught Rori by surprise, her laughter helping in diffusing the tension, and a blush of colour spread across Rori's cheeks, matching Agatha's own embarrassment. The genuine warmth in Agatha's eyes made the moment feel more like an invitation than an order.

Her shoulders rose and fell as she drew a breath, meeting Agatha's gaze with a determined glint in her eyes. "Alright.." she said as she accepted the offered spear, feeling the weight of the weapon in her hands. Lighter than she expected. The smooth, polished surface gleamed in the daylight, and she assumed a tentative grip as she gazed up at the glinting steel atop it.

"Teach me," she nodded eagerly, and cleared her throat as she looked back at the orc... "Please."

 

[Agatha]

Agatha smiled. 'Such politeness,' she said, amused and somewhat warmed by Rori's demureness. Most of her warriors were loud, foul-mouthed heathens. There were a select few who didn't let the coin and the killing effect their behaviour, and most of them held command positions in the Company.

'Alright! Allow me to make some time in my very busy schedule and I'll... uh, get back to you.'

Rubbing at the back of her neck, Agatha turned to the heaps of weapons left on display. A faint blush touched her cheeks, and she could feel them burning as she nodded to a place further down the row of tents. 'Okay, right, let's go get you some armour.' Another necessity of the trade, that. You wouldn't live long without it, though, Agatha had known more than her share of fools who had thought otherwise.

The blacksmith, a thick-bearded, heavily-muscled man in an apron and fuck all else, looked up as the two women approached. 'Ho there, Captain!' Standing, the big man lumbered his way towards them. 'What can I do for you this fine morning? Looking to get yer plate fixed up?' His eyes drifted to Rori. He nodded jovially.

'Looking to get our new friend here some armour, actually,' Agatha told him, clasping forearms in greeting. The blacksmith had a grip on him capable of rending steel. The she-orc was made of sterner stuff. 'This is Rori, our newest orderly. Rori, this is Jost, the Second's sole blacksmith, though I'm sure his young proteges are running around here somewhere.'

Grinning, Jost nodded. 'Probably off hitting each other with sticks, truth be told. Ain't got much interest in the forge, as of yet, but like my missus keeps tellin' me, they're only little.' Chuckling, Jost glanced at Rori. 'Anything in particularly you were lookin' for, lass? A shirt of mail, perhaps?'

Rori

 

[Rori]

Rosy lips twisted at Agatha's acknowledgement of her manners and she lifted a shoulder in a quick shrug. "Manners cost nothing, but can earn you everything.." she recited with her chin up and her back straight, impersonating her father. She snorted bitterly, though, what he'd meant was subservience.

Armour, right.. Her lips curled, her mind still on her father whom, if he could see her dressed in armour and holding a weapon, would likely drop dead with disapproval.

The blacksmith's voice called her from her thoughts and she had to double-take, her brows shooting upward. "O-oh.." she looked away, anywhere but at the man who was clearly stark naked beneath his apron. Thank the Gods for his apron.

There was no hiding her blush now, not when it accompanied a nervous laugh as she stared down at her feet.. "Hello, Jost." she greeted him, curling a strand of red around her ear. She spared a glance up at the Agatha at the mention of proteges, and then to the man's jolly expression as he spoke of his 'missus' and little ones. Children?

There were families here?..

"Oh.." she dropped her gaze once more.. "Mail sounds delightful. Just, you know.. Anything to save me from being impaled would be wonderful, thank you." she cleared her throat.

 

[Agatha]

Jost grinned sheepishly. Behind him, the portable forge out of which he plied his trade fizzled and glowed. 'Well, if you'd like ta step inta ma office, I'll see about gettin' ya suited and booted.' Gesturing to a pair of wagons parked across from his forge, Jost began to hum and haw as, between them, they began searching for Rori's armour.

'Now, before ya say anythin', most o' these bits and bobs weren't made by me. I'm just the poor sod who has ta fix 'em up and palm 'em off.'

His eyes darted over to Agatha.

'Don't you go looking at me like that,' she smiled. 'I have people to do my fighting for me these days.' As much as this was true, she had never been one to sit back and let others bleed for her. That was partly why the dumb shits had voted her in, and not Brutus.

'On your left, Jost! Beside the breastplate.'

Turning, the blacksmith clapped his hands together excitedly as he found what Agatha was staring at. 'This should do it!' He announced, pulling out a short-sleeved shirt of mail and showing it off to Rori. 'Ye might need to cinch it up a little, but we won' know until ya try it on. Here!'

Watching from the sidelines, Agatha shuffled closer as Jost handed the shirt to Rori.

'If you need help, just say. They can be a bastard to put on.'

 

[Rori]

The redhead chuffed at the banter between the two, her gaze settling on Agatha as she fell into distant thought. She had no doubt the woman would be a formidable opponent to stand against, but it was clear that she treated her men and women well, or they wouldn't have shared such warmth with her. She realised that despite the fear she first felt - the fear that was instilled in most human children when fed stories of monsters, Rori felt comfort, not unease in the female's presence, and that wasn't something she was used to..

Jost's announcement dragged her attention back to him, and the chainmail shirt he held up. Rori's shoulders shrugged, her head nodding. "Looks about right.. I think.." she answered. What the hell did she know about armour? She let out a quiet oof as her arms dipped under the unexpected weight of it.. "I'm going to need to build a little muscle.." she laughed under her breath.

Agatha's offer was all too kind, and Rori responded with a sheepish smile and a quick nod.. "That would be appreciated."

 

[Agatha]

Agatha smiled encouragingly. 'Alright then!' Slipping behind Rori, her arms hovering by her sides, the Captain began talking her through the process. 'Arms through the sleeves, like so,' she started, watching closely as the lithe redhead did as instructed. 'Now, grab the back and lift it up over your head. Up a bit more!' Rori's comment about building up muscle hadn't gone unnoticed, and the she-orc found herself agreeing.

'Okay! Let go!'

Mail rustled as it fell, cascading over Rori's head and shoulders, and on down to her lower thigh. Agatha caught it halfway, so as to keep the shirt's weight from dragging Rori down with it. 'Jost! The belt!' Blinking, the armourer nodded as he handed it over.

Looping it around Rori's midriff, just above her waist, Agatha cinched off the belt and took a step back, half-afraid the shorter woman might collapse without support.

'How does it feel?' She asked, grinning toothily, her fangs on full display. 'Takes some getting used to, the first few times. Be alright once we get some muscle on you,' her smile brightened. 'Jost?'

'Not a bad fit!' The armourer admitted begrudgingly. 'Lil' long in the leg, see? But you'll be needin' those if yer t' be runnin' round savin' folk, now, won't ya?' Chuckling, the armourer bowed to the two women before wandering back to his forge. Watching him go, Agatha turned back to Rori, an expectant glimmer in her golden eyes.

Rori

 

[Rori]

As Agatha moved behind her, Rori felt a rush of warmth to her cheeks. The captain's instructions were clear and concise, and the gentle, almost protective way she guided Rori through the process of donning the mail shirt made her feel oddly secure. It was an unusual feeling, especially considering how intimidating she should have found this female to be.

Rori's fingers brushed against the cold metal links as she threaded her arms through the sleeves. She could feel the weight of the shirt already pulling at her shoulders. Following Agatha's guidance, she lifted the back of the shirt over her head, her movements a bit awkward but determined. The mail rustled and clinked as it settled into place, the weight significantly more than she had anticipated.

When Agatha cinched the belt around her waist, securing the mail in place, Rori was grateful for the support. The captain’s proximity, her hands firm and reassuring, sent another wave of warmth through her. For a moment, Rori felt a little self-conscious under Agatha's watchful gaze, her cheeks growing even warmer.

'How does it feel?'

Rori took a deep breath, drawing her eyes shyly from Agatha to look down at the mail, feeling the weight of it shift slightly with her movements. It was heavy, certainly, and the links pressed into her skin in unfamiliar ways, but there was something empowering about the sensation. "It feels... different." she admitted, her voice a bit breathless but steady. "But not in a bad way. It's heavy, but yes, I'm sure I'll get used to it." She returned Agatha's grin with a determined smile of her own.

Rori nodded, watching the blacksmith return to his forge before turning her attention back to Agatha. "I suppose I should start working on that muscle." she laughed under breath, holding up her arms. "I feel like I've developed at least five just wearing this thing."

 

[Agatha]

Agatha pretended not to notice the effect she was having on Rori. Her touch, equal parts gentle and firm, was not something many among the Company had experienced. How honoured she must feel, the Captain thought, smiling at her own stupidity, a warmth blossoming in her chest as she took a step back.

'Just five?' She grinned, picking up Rori's spear and dagger and offering them to her. 'You can slip the throat-cutter through your belt, if you like! See how I'm wearing mine?' She turned side-on so Rori could get a better view of the weapon where it rested snugly against her hip. Most smallfolk carried knives just like it during their day-to-day, though, most folk didn't wear mail.

'It looks good on you, truly! Warrori might not be such a distant dream, after all.' Agatha laughed, recalling the awful joke with ease. Yeah, that one ain't getting better.

A horn sounded, marking the half-hour.

Waving Jost and his wife goodbye, Agatha led Rori back to the medic's tent. Blackshields rushed about, packing and loading and manhandling, the horn-blast having kicked them up a gear. 'We'll be on the road soon, so stick close to Mender and do as she does. Come find me once we've finished the day's march and we can see about starting your combat training.' With a good-humoured flash of tusks, Agatha slapped her companion on the shoulder.

'Oh, and uh... welcome to the Company!'

Rori

 

[Rori]

Rori's cheeks warmed even more as Agatha stepped back, her touch lingering like a memory. She tried to focus on the captain's words, her heart beating a little faster than usual, though it near stopped dead as Agatha referred to the dagger as a throat cutter. She grimaced, the stark imagery of the term unsettling her. She truly hoped she'd never have to use it for such things.

She tried to mask her discomfort with a quick nod, focusing on adjusting the dagger at her hip.

"Thanks." she said, her voice a bit quieter now. The weight of the mail and weapons felt more significant with the reality of their use sinking in. Despite her reservations, she was determined to prove herself. She glanced back up, catching the captain's eye. "I'll try not to disappoint." Rori's lips curved into a small smile.

Agatha's laugh and the callback to the terrible nickname succeeded in both lightening the mood, and embarrassing her, but she found herself laughing too, a hand rubbing at her forehead. The sound of the horn startled her, and she quickly followed Agatha's lead, waving goodbye to Jost and his wife.

As they navigated back to the medic's tent, Rori listened intently to the captain's instructions, nodding at each point. "Stick to Mender like glue, got it." she smirked, and nodded hesitantly at the prospect of starting her combat training.

She near toppled when Agatha slapped her shoulder and welcomed her to the Company, and she straightened her posture with a quiet laugh, the mail shifting with her movements. "Thank you, Captain."

As the orc woman moved on, Rori turned her attention to the medic's tent, ready to dive into her duties and get ready for the day's march.

 

[Agatha]

The day passed uneventfully but ended in bloodshed. A brief, brutal affair, it was over and done with by the time Agatha arrived on the scene, sword out, steel glinting in the waning light. "Just a patrol," the officer in charge had reported, gesturing towards the dead bodies strewn haphazardly along the road ahead.

'Any casualties?' Agatha had asked. 'One,' the officer had replied, nodding to where a handful of men stood gathered around the prone form of another. The man was dressed in a black surcoat, his weapon laid across his chest in repose.

Staring down at him, Agatha had tried to remember the man's name. Failed.

'Wounded?' She had continued, waving for the others to take the body into the woods and to see to it that he was given a proper burial, rites and all. Again the officer had gestured. 'A few minor nicks and cuts, nothing major.' He paused. 'Mind you, Tasha took a nasty bump on the noggin', keeps sayin' she feels dizzy.' Nodding, they had sent for Mender and Rori.

Afterwards, hours later, once night had fallen and camp had been made, Agatha had sought Rori out for her first lesson. Arriving at the medic's tent to find Mender slouched comfortably behind her desk, catching a few winks, Agatha had turned to the redhead, a small smile on her face.

'Ready?' Her eyes flicked to Tasha where she was curled up in a cot, sleeping. 'You did well today, so Mender tells me.' Her smile didn't falter none as she watched Rori gather up her things. Was I ever that slim? Agatha wondered, turning at the sound of muted conversation and laughter behind her.

Rori

 

[Rori]

Rori stood up from her seat beside Tasha's cot, the exhaustion of the day evident in her posture, but there was an unmistakable spark of exhilaration in her eyes. Her hair was disheveled, and there were streaks of blood still smeared on her cheek and staining her hands. Tired as she was, she beamed to see the Captain unhurt and nodded quickly.

"Yes, ready." Rori responded, her voice steady but tinged with the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins as she quickly gathered her things, her movements a bit hurried and clumsy despite the meticulous care she'd shown earlier in treating the wounded. Despite the day's ordeal, there was a newfound determination in her actions, and she glanced back at the few wounded, her lips curling into a small, satisfied smile that they had all been well tended to before she shuffled outside.

She met Agatha's gaze, her nervous excitement written plainly on her face "Is this.. Alright? I'm sure you must be exhausted." her lips twisted, glancing to the small crowd of people paying her more attention than she liked..

 

[Agatha]

'Not really. I can go all night.' Grinning from ear to ear, Agatha shook her head, disgusted by her own foolishness but happy none the less. Leading Rori from the tent towards the edge of camp, Agatha shared a few brief words with the officer of the watch. Jokes were exchanged, and laughter was had as the Blackshields within earshot took the time to listen.

Saying their farewells, Agatha left the perimeter of the camp behind via an old goatherder's trail, its meandering course lit by the moons and stars above.

'I had Graves do some scouting for us,' she said, slowing her pace so that she could walk side by side with Rori. 'There's a clearing up ahead, with a view of the valley beyond. Spacious, airy, and quite beautiful to behold, if my wyld heart speaks true.'

Grinning, Agatha surrendered to the silence for a moment. Twigs snapped underfoot as they walked, navigating their way over roots and fallen branches, between boughs of brown-gold.

'How was it?' She asked after a time. 'Your first real day with the Company. Was it as different from your past life as you expected it to be?' Hells. I don't even know what she did... before. There hadn't been much time to account for all the newcomers during their flight from Taernsby and the following raid on the prisoner convoy.

Maybe I should ask her? Though, strangely, Agatha got the distinct impression Rori could read it in her eyes.

Rori

 

[Rori]

Rori's lips twisted into a smirk at Agatha's remark about being able to "go all night", a quiet laugh escaping before she could stifle it. Her cheeks flushed bashfully, but the mirth in her eyes betrayed her amusement. "Alright then.." she agreed.

She waited patiently as the Captain exchanged words with the officer of the watch, and continued along side the Captain toward their training ground. She had assumed they'd be training nearby the camp, but the growing quiet was somewhat of a welcome relief after a few solid hours of chaos, and Agatha's description of the clearing piqued her interest.

When Agatha asked about her first day, Rori's smile broadened, and she let out a huff. "It was so much more." she replied, shaking her head with a glance up at the orc woman. "I didn't have much purpose before. I wasn't... allowed to have a purpose, no matter how much I wanted one." she shrugged, the thought of her past life and the constraints it held now seeming distant. "Gods, if my husband could see me now, he would die of disgust." she added, though the thought only made her smile more.

"Thank you for giving me the chance." she said sincerely, her eyes meeting Agatha's with gratitude before she turned her attention ahead as they crested the hill.

The clearing was everything Agatha had described and more. Moonlight bathed the open space in a silvery glow, illuminating the soft, grassy floor that stretched out before them. The surrounding trees framed the clearing like a natural amphitheater, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. Beyond, the valley spread out in a breathtaking panorama, a tapestry of rolling hills and dark forests under the star-studded sky. The air was cool and fresh, carrying the subtle scents of pine and earth.

Rori stood at the edge of the clearing, her breath catching in her throat as she took it all in. The serene beauty of the place, the vastness of the night sky, and the sense of freedom it evoked left her momentarily speechless. For the first time in a long while, she felt a profound sense of peace.

"It's..so beautiful" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she turned to Agatha, her eyes wide with wonder. "You see places like this often?.."

 

[Agatha]

'Often enough to keep me happy,' she replied, nodding at Rori's question. 'Well, as happy as one can be in this line of work. It's not all stunning vistas and beautiful women, much as it pains me to say it!' Agatha's gaze lingered a moment before she turned away. 'I wasn't aware you had a husband,' she continued, her voice pitched low. 'No surprise there, given how long we've known each other.'

Breathing in the night air, Agatha stared out over the valley through which they would be marching come the dawn. A river, as broad as it was deep, wound its way through the valley's basin, flanked on both sides by steep hills and pastureland. Silver in the moonlight, its waters flowed fast and true. A natural barrier, if ever there was one.

Stonebridge must be just beyond the turn, Agatha thought, her scouts' reports fresh in her mind. Tomorrow, there will be a fight, one we must rise to, or else I can kiss my captaincy goodbye.

And the company.

Placing the thought aside, Agatha unravelled the black bundle in her hand, and offered it up to Rori. 'Swords and staves,' she said, 'the tools of our trade.' Smiling, she prompted Rori to take them. 'We'll start with the basics, how to stand and whatnot.' Pausing, the she-orc's eyes flitted up to find the medic's. 'If you don't mind my asking, what did you do before you came to know the Blackshields?'

Rori

 

[Rori]

Beautiful women?... Ah... Oh. Rori cleared her throat with a smile as she dropped her gaze. "I feel like I've known you much longer." she admitted quietly, and took the bundle from her. Her eyes lingered on the Captain's face for a moment, considering her question.

What did she do before?

"As I was told." she began said simply, her voice quiet and reflective.

"My marriage wasn't my choice. He was a Lord wealthier than my father had ever been. I was a decent trade, really." She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "I was never permitted to see my family again. I'm unsure if they tried."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, kneeling down to set the bundle in the grass and run her fingers over the weapons. "My life with him was a silent one. I had no purpose, no freedom. I was a prisoner in my own home, and no matter how obedient I was, my dearest husband always found a reason.." she cut herself off, feeling the shame and anger boil in her belly, her cheeks flushing from the heat of it.

Rori's hands tightened around the weapons as she stood, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. "I survived. Barely. But I was never allowed to live." She met Agatha's gaze, a fire kindling in her eyes. "When I got the chance to escape, I took it." she frowned.

"Alright.. Basics." she nodded.