A map was laid out on a round table at the centre of the room, illuminated by a magical light hanging over it. Several chairs were laid out around the table, and as Numen sat in one, I followed suit. “I thought the plan was always just to have us?” I arched an eyebrow, removing my faceplate and setting it aside. Numen leaned back against the chair, her face scrunched up as she thought.

“Well, it started when someone decided to apply to us…” Numen began. Frejr and the others had decided to allow them, delegating the ever-increasing amounts of work that had begun to pile up. Torven lacked its own irregular after all, and Frejr had thought to allow the others the mobility they needed. It didn’t turn out so simple…

From what I gathered, the number of applicants had grown, in the time I’d been gone they had legitimately become a form of adventurer’s guild. They received missives from surrounding towns and passed them out to other irregulars, who would come here to find interesting jobs to take.

Someone knocked on the door. Numen got up and went to it, opening it slightly. Words were exchanged and she received two mugs, shutting the door behind her. “They periodically send drinks up if we’re here.” She said with a slight frown. “I’ve tried telling them that they don’t have to, but they do it anyway…” She passed the mug to me, and I arched an eyebrow as it went down. Is that… mead?

It went down fairly smoothly, though I could chalk that up to me being used to alcohol in general. The honey flavour remained as a light aftertaste, easily washed away. I set it down, staring at it with my eyebrow still arched. “Where is this from?” I asked. Normally this wasn’t something people tended to just serve, grain was a lot more viable once we got agriculture down.

She shook her head. “No idea, the barkeep was recommended on by one of Azarint’s friends.” She gestured downwards, where the receptionist would have been. “Tina is one of Frejr’s friends, apparently she used to work as a numbers person. We’ve mostly just went out to find people we needed…” She shrugged with her palms outward, then counted off her fingers.

“Tina is the receptionist, Geni is the barkeep, and Gen is the serving swain. Oh right, we also have Inigo, he works the armoury downstairs.” She explained. “It’s part of a deal with a smith’s guild that approached us. It’s a really good deal really. Just sometimes it feels a little too good.”

I arched an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of stuff to be doing, even considering the length of time I’ve been gone.” I remarked, before pausing as I realized something. “How long did it take the smith’s guild to set up all this anyway? The time frame is too short for them to have done this unless…” I trailed off.

Numen shrugged. “They cut it very close, this morning actually. I’m not expecting a lot of sales though, most of us have our own weapons we prefer already.” I wouldn’t be too sure. If they’re willing to do all that they’d have to be pretty damn confident in the quality of their work. I thought to myself. “And yeah, it’s too much stuff… We haven’t been able to actually get out there and do anything.” She said plaintively. “Every time we finally finish something another problem pops up.”

It was then that Frejr stepped into the room. “Oh, you’re back.” A smile alighting Numen’s face to greet her. “Did you manage to get everything together? It sounded really troublesome to set up all the protocol and everything.”

Frejr took a seat at the table, taking a sip of mead from a mug she held in her hand. She leaned back, and turned to me. “It’s good to see you back.” She then turned to Numen. “It’s done, a friend of mine helped me to set it up. We’ve got a template for how we’re setting things up. And I’ve got a few candidates in mind for the positions.”

Numen’s face fell at that. “We can’t exactly leave them to anarchy Numen.” Frejr said in the amused and weary tone of someone who had made this argument more times than they cared for. Numen herself nodded, morose, but said nothing. Frejr sighed, sagging down. “I understand.”

She then turned back to me. “As it stands I’d like it if you could check in on the group that you escorted back. I believe that they may have been lying about their previous experience, they were sent to help defend a town against goblins.” She took another sip of the mead. “I think you will be a gentler hand than I at this, exhausted as I am. You may want to change into something less conspicuous to do so however.” She said with a gesture at my armour. I smirked. Yeah, I guess I will.

[Numen really isn’t the person for this is she?] Page murmured in my head.

No. I replied, somewhat resigned. She really isn’t. And part of me doesn’t really understand that. She really believes in the Irregulars as a semi-noble force, or at least, one with lofty, worthy ideals. And then she just clams up, becomes curt and somewhat imperious, though she obviously likes helping them, doing good. I sighed. This stuff was just complex.

I walked down in my normal clothes, skilfully keeping out of sight as I descended and making my way into the back. “You’re lucky. You’ll live.” A voice said testily. “Now stop struggling while I stitch this back together.” Someone was producing muffled screams, though they seemed to be limited by themselves rather than a gag. I stepped over, pushing the door open gently as I let myself in.

“Ugh, interruptions.” The man cried out, never turning to look at me. “You realize that I need to finish this quickly, and that just by walking in you’ve made this place unclean.” He finished putting in the last few stitches, and looked up. “What is it?”

“I was instructed to check in on them.” I said simply. “How are their wounds?”

“They’ll live. Most of them will take a few days to heal properly, just need to give them some of the slower, cheaper regeneratives.” He waved us off. “You need to come back tomorrow, around noon, I need to check if your wounds are healing properly, but otherwise, clear out.”

As we left I could hear him grab what I assumed were cleaning supplies. That was… interesting. I thought to myself.

[I’ll say.] Page remarked. [Curious how he’s a germophobe, the other doctors we’ve ever seen are really more in line with what we know of medieval medicine.]

It probably makes him a lot better at his job though.

[Indubitably.] Page replied. [Do you think he will usher in a Golden Age for medicine?]

Not with that attitude he isn’t.

“Let’s take a seat over there.” I said, smiling disarmingly as I brought them over to a table. I paid for their drinks, since the way they looked suggested that they really needed it. “Can you give me the rundown on what happened?” I asked, swapping to a different speech pattern to keep them from noticing who I was. Honestly it seemed to work, they at least didn’t seem like they were afraid of me, instead seemingly ashamed at themselves. The archer spoke first.

“We were supposed to just guard the town, set up a killzone and take them out. We got cocky…” She said, shifting in her chair. “We chased them into the forest.” And this is where everything goes wrong. “Entered their cave…” I stand corrected. “We lost Riche down there.” She took a sip of her drink, and didn’t say anything more. Well I suppose it’s obvious where it went wrong. But I’m not going to add to their own beatdown of their self-esteem…

As I shifted forward to speak, an obnoxious voice came in from over my shoulder. “They’re just letting almost anyone join huh? Now that really hurts my feelings.” I grimaced internally. Who’s this bastard? I thought to myself.

I turned, and saw a somewhat familiar visage, I struggled for a moment to place it until he began to speak again. “Hah, and they wouldn’t take me back then, and now look at this…” I frowned as the memory asserted itself, this was the man who had spoken of ‘going the distance’.

I had no idea what his name was, and at this point I wasn’t sure I cared. “Why’re you here then?” I asked, turning to face him with a neutral, expressionless face. “You aren’t looking to join up are you?” I arched an eyebrow.

“They could certainly use me.” The man said. “Look at their sorry state, they shouldn’t even have left home. Bet you they couldn’t get into guard duty.” He drawled. “Now what they need is someone who actually knows what he’s doing, someone like me.” He said, sauntering away. Pains me to admit that I really don’t see him being turned away.

[It is definitely unlikely.] Page conceded. [If Tina is the one in charge of recruitment she can hardly be expected to know his psychological profile. Especially considering that they have never met.] I sighed internally, and turned back to the two. They seemed wounded by his words, eyes downcast, probably thinking of the person that had been left to die.

“We have to bring his sword back.” The spearman said suddenly, looking to the archer. “We have to tell… to tell his family. And we have to track down those goblins, make up for our mistake.”

The archer seemed to want to nod, but sagged down. “Yeah, we should.”

“I don’t know about you two, but while I can agree with getting the sword and his remains. The goblins have probably uprooted, and what makes you think it’ll go better now that you’re down one man?” I chastised. “You’ll need to be prepared, rested, and level headed. If you want to make it up it has to be by being effective, throwing your life away over guilt is pointless.”

Ugh, gentler hand my foot. I thought to myself, annoyed. They seemed to take at least a bit of it to heart, but what I said seemed more effective at deflating the spearman than it did anything else. “Get some rest.” I said, my voice softer now. “Dawn has a habit of clearing away darkness from more than just the sky…” I stood from the table, and walked over to the girl at the counter, Tina.

She was standing behind the counter, looking decidedly uncomfortable with the man who was apparently right now trying to regale his tales. It was probably also the fact that he was leaning almost across the counter, nearly crowding her out if she hadn’t stepped back. I arched an eyebrow, and interjected once I approached. “Are there any jobs I might be able to take up?”

“You going to wrestle them to death with your arms?” The man jeered.

I gave him an amused look. “I could, but generally I find the pointy end of a sword is a lot more useful.” He cast a glance over me with a sneer and I rolled my eyes. “You going to get a job or just hang around here? Get a chance prove your stuff to everyone who hasn’t met you.”

“I can’t give you a job in good conscience.” Tina said. “I don’t know how good you are and Frejr has asked for no groups smaller than three if I’m handling new people.”

“Huh, how many did you lose?” I asked, drawing my eyebrows together. That’s sound, but probably not something that would come into effect unless something had happened.

“Six.” She replied sadly. “A lot of people were inspired to take up arms against the threats. Too many were just unlucky and alone.” I could see the man just about to open his mouth, as Azarint came up behind him.

“So you found your way here anyway Linden.” He remarked, resigned.