Game thread - It begins...

"Farms again. I can't avoid them, but at least I know a thing or two about them." He chuckled to his companions while rubbing idly at the brand that had started itching, his thick brown eyebrows raised in a perpetual look of mystification.

Aaxi was the black sheep of his family. He loathed his family farm and its associated smells and noises. As a child he had an itch to explore, frequently wandering outside his shire, visiting neighboring towns and villages whenever he could. He had a passion for collecting fossils. He would only carry his two favorites, burying the rest when he entered a village or city. He forgot to bury them this time, his excitement had distracted him. He realized he would have to restrain his thieving tendencies if he didn't want to be executed. But it was a fun game for him, a challenge and an amusement that would be hard to live without.

He thought about the militia reports he had heard and kept that at the back of his head in case he had to hightail it out of here. He liked the idea of being on the winning side too.

"Not exactly what I was expecting," he said as he assessed the fort.

Arden's hard eyes sum up the structure as well: not much, that sum. Not much like the stone battlements and towers of Hoffnungsadel. But a lot of good they were when the rebels came marching. How has this happened?

Without lingering on the thought, the press-ganged soldier looks at those he's marching with. He's been trying to take their measure as well, and has settled on some opinions by the time they all reach the outpost. Arden, for his part, has been well-equipped by this new force. He carries himself like a man-at-arms, and it's not hard to tell he's familiar with the sword on his hip, his shield and his mail. His dark hair is shoulder-length and tied back; the color matches his moustache and trimmed beard. Scars, new and old, mark his hands, his forearms and his face, speaking of a hard life lived before this moment.

The man is handsome, of average height and build, and seems personable enough. He smiles just slightly as he responds to the halfling. "No? And just what were you expecting, little one?"

"What I lack in height I make up in smarts. Just remember that," Aaxi says while taking no offense but sending a message nevertheless.

"I'm not sure what you were expecting but I was expecting something a little more, oh....substantial. I like my creature comforts, ya know?" He punctuated his statement with a disarming smile, the type of smile that often got him out of all kinds of trouble.

Nehren overhears the grumbling. "We must remember the Psalms of Saint Nechrubel: number 1, verses 3 and 4," he raises his hands and his voice "Listen to the words in the Nameless Scriptures, Inominatus, of Saint Nechrubel, 'Of those who build mightily, stone by stone, so shall they fall, stone by stone. And the depths of the underworld shall bring forth flying spectres and crawling beasts. In their passing the worm grows fat, the vulture weary.' So sayeth the scripture!" He nods while making the sign of addition, with his left hand, in the air, before his chest.

"We should remember to be thankful for all things brothers. Are we not here in travail together? Let us not forget the many blessings of Saint Basilisk the younger. We have food to sup, water to drink, and a place to lay our heads. Are we not among frineds? Therefore, shall we break our fast and sup whilst there is yet time for such luxury?" he asks as he invites the two to sit upon some logs placed around a fire. He removes a bundle wrapped in cheesecloth containing a dried sausage, aged cheese, a motley apple and a small loaf of traveling bread. "Would you join me? I have enough for the three of us. By the way, what are your names brothers, I am Nehren Riste, a priest, if you will, of the Ordo Occulta, but you may address me as Nehren, for I am also laid low by the whims of fortune."

Rose remains quiet for most of the walk. She has all of her hand-me-down gear strapped on tightly. It was originally suited for someone with a larger frame, but she is making due. Her eyes often drift to Arden. He looks a lot like what she is trying to pass herself off as: a competent and experienced fighter. She tries to mimic his confident stride but it quickly becomes hopeless. The longer they march, the more she has to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other.

When the finally stop, Rose is elated. She drops her backpack to the ground wipes sweat from her brow. Their destination may not be glamorous but that is just fine with her. She wouldn't know how to act around people of a higher station anyways. She has heard rumors that the wealthy have up to five different forks and it is an insulting gesture to use the wrong one! A fork is a fork where she comes from and you're lucky to have one for each person at the table.

An amused expression crosses her face as the holy man addresses his 'brothers' and invites them to share a meal. Rose takes a seat right beside him. "Does the offer extend to sisters in arms as well?" she says with a playful tone while greedily grabbing at the food. In her household, if you weren't quick, you didn't eat. "Rose Tamblyn," she offers her name in between bites.

"Well...I admit, I am slightly taken, but of course. Feel...free to partake...," Nehren gives up and just hands her the entire meal and draws out another one to share with the others. "Shall I call you Rose, Miss Rose, Sir Tamblyn?...it is not my intention to offend - neither brother nor sister." He smiles gently to himself, enjoying the fact that he was able to serve Rose in her time of need.

"Nice to meet you Rose. I'm Aaxi but my friends call me Ax." He smiles his most charming smile. "Believe it or not, my weapon of choice is an ax." He chuckles at his own very bad attempt to be funny.

Rose gives Nehren an odd look but then politely smiles. She has very little exposure to formal religion. She wonders if all practitioners are so... well, formal probably would be the best word for it. "Just Rose is fine, thanks."

She does laugh at Aaxi, but is she is being polite more than anything. "Glad to meet you. All of you," she adds, looking around at each of them.

Arden mills for a moment with the other soldiers before he joins the group, trying to get a better read on where they are, on what their purpose will be here. On who they are to defend against and watch for.

"I've no doubt about that," he'd said to Aaxi when the halfling claimed sharp wits, and to all of them he offers merely, "Arden," as he comes to sit by the fire. He notes the fit of Rose's armor with a glance, and the cleric's penchant for discourse as he takes a browning slice of apple and a piece of cheese from the man graciously. Chewing, he quietly adds, "Good to meet you too, Rose, Ax, priest. I used to hail from the city. But no more. I'm a conscript now, like the rest of you."

He fingers the brand briefly, and asks, "Anyone know the story with these?"

"I must admit ignorance sir. I'm sure they are heretical at best, but I haven't a clue," says Nehren.

"Otus," Arden says without rising, "what more can you tell us about who it is we're to guard against? Are they loyalists who have escaped the city, or outsiders, mercenaries come to aid the deposed nobles for coin? What do our scouts know of their numbers, their disposition?"

Our, he said. A word purposefully planted.

While Lord Commander Emil's man answers, the bearded warrior lifts an eyebrow as he looks to his fellows -- Rose the farm girl, green as can be, Nehren the priest, and the little one, Ax. This could prove a challenging task. The notion of rewards is an interesting one, though, and so Arden asks about that as well.

"What of these rewards, then?" His eyebrows are up, his expression is mild. "Fresh brands, I'd wager, but what else?"

---

"Aye, there are few things that make man risk his life: Fear, Love, Faith, and Gold. I've good reason to think perhaps it's not Gold after all...," says Nehren under his breath.

Aaaxi listened with interest to Arden's questions. How could they protect anyone if they didn't know who they were protecting them from?

While he waited for answers he thought about those he would be working with and perhaps fighting with to the death if need be. It seemed like Arden was a smart fella even if was a bit of a smart aleck. Rose was polite but what kind of fighter would she be? The priest? Well, he didn't like priests being the far opposite of honest as he was.

Rose frowns while rubbing the shoulder where she was given the brand. She was not overly fond when she saw it was in the shape of a rose. She can already picture her brothers teasing her over it when she gets back home, as if she chose to have it done.

She has mixed feelings about their mission. On one hand, Rose is proud to be protecting farmers like herself. On the other, she feels like she is robbing them of their hard work and livelihood. She has been on the other side of that exchange; when soldiers come to demand tribute. She just has to hope that the new rulers are just and fair with what they take, and more importantly, with what they leave for the farmers...

Rose snaps out of her thoughts and tries to wear a face that says she is deeply focused on the conversation even though she has long sense lost track of what is being said. She hopes that she didn't miss anything important.