As You Command [The Waiting Disaster and Ladybee]

[Ladybee]

Captain Eiza Battleblood
"My axe will answer any further questions."

Eiza Battleblood swung a heavy wooden practice sword with one hand at a stationary practice target, its oak limbs and thick trunk of a torso battered and beaten with years of abuse. The captain was in full battle regalia: her iron and chain armor was on the heavy side for a female, but it was carefully tailored to fit her muscular frame. There was nothing remotely feminine about her, really. Even her long, thick black hair was a tangled, shaggy mess, tied back and barely constrained with a leather strap. Pieces of it, rough like horsehair, fell down in her face and stuck to her skin, growing wet with sweat. She had a nice form, with wide hips and a decent set of breasts, but she was stocky and thick with muscle. Her thighs could crush a man's head, and she could rival most males in arm wrestling. Or regular wrestling, for that matter. She was known for her prowess in combat, both hand-to-hand and armed. Her preferred weapon was a battleaxe: one so large and hefty that any other would find it unwieldy, but it was like liquid death in her palms and its steel was black as night, with the sharp edge often washed in blood.

Her face was mostly attractive, if not strong and always dour in expression. She had a dark glare and straight, strong nose and jaw. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she certainly wasn't ugly. No one had ever seen her with any sort of companion, so it was generally believed she just wasn't interested in recreational relationships, much less having a family. Eiza came from one of the most well known lines of warriors in the land, and the army had quite a few Battlebloods in its rank: her cousins, an uncle, and her father, a major-general tactician in the upper ranks. Battlebloods were well known to be serious and deadly people, but strong and loyal. Eiza herself had incredible fighting ability as well as an innate sense of command. She led a standard captain's command: ten troops of one hundred men each, each troop with its sergeant that answered directly to her, as well as a first lieutenant to carry out her orders amid the lesser ranks. Her men respected her leadership, some out of fear of her punishments, which were often swift and brutal, and some out of confidence. Eiza had a reputation for success in the battlefield.

The wooden sword thwoked loudly against the target. She wielded it two hands, with the swiftness and accuracy of long practice. She was young, and a woman, but already she had clawed her way through the ranks and made a place for herself in exactly the place she belonged.

She was awaiting a new transfer to her squadron. Gurra Spearsting, her first lieutenant for several years, met his death honorably fighting off an ogre raid several weeks ago. He had been a quiet, serious man and they had been a good team, if not exactly friends. He had been nearly twice her age, and outside of normal communication they had barely said two words to eachother, but he was reliable and strong.

She expected her new second in command would be just as capable and willing, even though she was a young woman. ​

 

[The Waiting Disaster]

Lieutenant Hardis Falcone
"Any soul can will a man to rally. Only the strongest can will a man to kill."

Hardis to war was as a fish to water, or a bird to the sky. It was once joked that nobody ever felt safe with the man around, becuase it meant that surely there would be bloodshed soon to follow if the fighting had not yet begun. It was a reputation he had enjoyed, to be honest. The Falcone family was not the most noteworthy as a whole for the warriors it produced, more commonly associated (frustratingly enough) with the caring and tending of animals. War horses, pack animals, and even the venerable bird from which the family drew it's name. Yet, as he always had throughout his life, Hardis was one to break that image. Spending only the smallest amount of time his father allowed following the more traditional family trade, Hardis invested the rest of his time in to the martial arts of combat. They lived in a land of people accustomed to war, so he did not need to look far in order to find what he needed. He trained, day and night, at times going for days without water or food if he had to, and built himself to be a warrior worthy of respect. Constantly through his early years in the military, his family's less militant origins plagued him from unit to unit, but he always managed to push on in order to better himself and prove those who doubted him wrong. In time, this seeming burden came to prove it's use.

Tracking animals when he and his men were forced to scavenge for food, knowing the ways of nature, what plants were safe to consume, what ones would leave you ill for days or plainly kill you. He started to be considered an asset to those around him. Sharp eyes and a quick hand with his blade made him even more so. At first, he was placed amongst the Sergeants, to lead the troops, but it was not long before he was deemed fit for the next step. This was to be his third such post as a 1st Lieutenant. This was the pressure chamber for officers such as himself. Every 1st Lieutenant would be subjected to some of the most grueling tours possible, usually around three. It was to determine who amongst them was the smartest, quickest, and luckiest. Those who survived these hellish stations would soon find themselves placed in commands of their own. However, this command was most certainly going to be a different one for the Lieutenant. A scout by nature, he was used to the smaller troops: three or four troops of eighty or less, moving about behind the enemy lines, and sabotaging the inner workings of the ogre war machine. This was a line unit. Not as exciting sounding a prospect as prior commands, but he would now find himself on the front.

Truly an opportunity to finally prove himself worthy of his position in this unit, stepping in for the slain predecessor.

Amongst those in the camp, it was clear he was not a local, both of the unit, and of this particular region. While most of them were the stocky, pale-skinned sort with black hair: his differences were striking. At around 5'11, he was an inch or two shorter than many of the warriors he would be in charge of, as well as the fact that he had olive-toned skin, and more fairly brown hair. On top of this, it seemed many of those who would be under his command preferred to either be clean-shaven, or heavily bearded. The Lieutenant's pointed jaw was marked with the stubble that showed his recent lack of shaving, while long brown hair was kept roughly secured in a ponytail at the moment. Emerald colored eyes flanked a sharp and pointed noise, watching all of those around him as he walked amongst the tents of the soldiers he would soon be advising throughout the battles to come against the ogre menace not far off in the distance now.

However, none of them were his focus. Instead he had his eyes set upon a relatively flat area of ground, fenced off, with targets marked with arrows across their surfaces, training dummies scored by the strikes of training implements, and more training tools for the soldiers to keep their skills sharp. As much as he pined to split the arrows left on those targets like a true yeoman, he had a more pressing concern, and that rested with the young woman who was now viciously thrashing one of the training mannequins. His approach was slow and silent, hood over his head, cloak pulled tight around a muscular and agile frame, and leather fur-lined boots practically gliding across the ground with each silent step. He reached the open portion of the fence, stopping to observe the woman in motion, and waiting for a pause in his stride before speaking.

"Captain Battleblood, I assume?" Emerald eyes watched her every moment, as if she were more of a threat than an ally, a new commander who he would be forced to learn the ways of now, "Your reputation precedes you."

 

[Ladybee]

Captain Eiza Battleblood
"My axe will answer any further questions."

The deep, rough voice of a man brought Eiza out of her flurry of attacks. She turned to observe the stranger, hefting the sword onto her shoulder, breathing heavily, but controlled.

"You would assume correctly," she replied, her voice firm and no-nonsense. Eiza sized him up in a glance, much as a wolf looks at another that has stepped into their territory. He was exotic looking, darker and shorter than the fair-faced men of this region, but still a hand's width taller than Eiza. She could see he was lean and fit, like a mountain cat, and his eyes were such a green that she could see their glint from where she stood. A predatory gleam. He sported rough stubble that enhanced his tanned skin but did nothing to soften the angular sharpness of his chin and nose. He reminded her strongly of a bird of prey, especially with his hood drawn atop his head.

"And you are Hardis Falcone," she stated. There was no warmth or welcome in her tone, just the confidence of fact. She leaned the sword against the fence and approached him, but only went a few strong strides before stopping and extending her arm for him to clasp. Having drawn closer, she was greeted with the comforting scent of steel and leather. Falcone's reputation also preceded him, and from what she heard he would be invaluable to her as her second in command.

"I will show you the layout of our sector, including your quarters," she said, "We can go over your duties, and introduce you to the troops at dinner this evening."​

 

[The Waiting Disaster]

Lieutenant Hardis Falcone
"Any soul can will a man to rally. Only the strongest can will a man to kill."

It was a rare day to see a woman donning the garb of a warrior, yet if the Lieutenant felt as much was hard to say. His face remained relatively stoic, taking two silent steps of his own forward, and extending his arm to firmly clasp her own. The arm was a muscular one, that of an archer and a huntsman, and the leather and steel bracers he wore about his forearms were visibly scored by the work of a tense bowstring. Across the arm, now that it was revealed from beneath the cloak, were faded tattoos of a clearly non-local influence. Everything about him, it seemed, was foreign to the land, and it was a uniqueness that he seemed to enjoy quite well.

"It is good to see my name has done me well." He replied, "For more than just the local hatchery."

Whether it was sarcasm or bitter resentment for his family's previous lineage was nigh indistinguishable. Releasing from the shake a few moments later, Hardis glanced around him at the camp, and reached up with a single gloved hand to pull the hood down. He took in his surroundings for a moment before his eyes once more settled on the Captain.

"That sounds reasonable, Captain. Though might I ask a question?" With a simple motion to the tents of the camp, as if that would indicate the nature of the question, he continued, "I noticed as I rode in that your defenses seem a little -- worse for wear, if you might. Has there been word of any aid to bolster against these orgre attacks?"

 

[Ladybee]

Captain Eiza Battleblood
"My axe will answer any further questions."

She nodded at his question grimly as they began walking towards her sector, where her troops were camped. "We wonder the same thing," she answered blandly. "Sometimes it seems King Reynold and his council have forgotten us. But as you know, this last winter was a hard one, and there have been many an attack on the border villages up north by wild animals and nomads. Most of the army is stationed there, to prevent the nomads from becoming bold and banding together. All that started before the ogres."

They passed many tents, a makeshift stable, and several roped off combat rings before reaching the mess hall. The giant tent was crowded and loud as the men took their lunch. They were mostly orderly, with a few occasional jesting scuffles breaking out between friends. Eiza didn't bother giving Falcone a verbal explanation of the layout. He was a soldier, and would know everything before she said it anyway.

"We are expecting more troops in the coming weeks, given the lull of attacks. No one knows if the ogres are loosing heart and fleeing, or just gathering to regroup. My--our platoons have suffered very few losses compared to others," she said, without a hint of pride, merely stating a fact.

They came upon a large tent set to the side of the main path, with a smaller tent next to it. "You will take these quarters," she said, gesturing to the smaller tent. It was only slight bigger than a normal trooper's, but had a side table as well as a cot, and allowed for standing room. "My tent is where we and the captains meet. Now, for you assignments."

Eiza turned to face him equally. "I know you have experience, but I must go over the basic requirements. You will be in charge of managing the captains. They are to answer to you first, and will come to you with problems and complaints. You have every authority they do concerning the troops, in and out of battle. You are responsible for maintaining good relations between the captains, and have the ability to punish them for mistakes, as you see fit, but not in front of troops. Other than that, you will be ever by my side, carrying out my every command promptly and to the best of your ability. You have a boy to run errands, bringing you things and calling the captains to meetings and such. His tent is behind your's. Any questions?"​

 

[The Waiting Disaster]

Lieutenant Hardis Falcone
"Any soul can will a man to rally. Only the strongest can will a man to kill."