“Much can be learned from just looking at the mercenaries that form a nation’s exports to the wider continent. For example, Meltonian mercenary bands reflect the wide range of cultures that make up the kingdom very well. Say, the Frostwind Sentinels, they dress in upscaled tribal attire, traditional garb with a good layer of chainmail or plate over top, perfect for the cold hilly conditions. Lion’s Fist from the central territories are the more classic, armoured heavy infantry with little fanfare or any real distinctive apparel, a reminder of Meltonian efficiency. Whereas the Raven Skulls maintain a unique mix of yeomanry and professional soldiers and perform more as a light infantry force with light cavalry support, reflective of their lifestyle as farmers and plainsmen.”

- Lieutenant Colonel Kiara Elsoleil, Potomian National Army - “Thoughts and Queries on Mercenaries.”

Sophie dashed forward and thrusted her sabre at her target. A futile assault as her opponent side stepped her attack and lashed out. Frightened, her legs swept backwards and tensed as she ducked and swung wildly, her blade almost catching purchase only for a simple backstep to negate her attacks. Frustrated, she pushed herself backwards and tried to regain her posture as well when she froze from the sensation of cold steel lingering dangerously above her head. The faint shadow of a battleaxe hanging overhead.

“Point.” Taurox the minotaur growled politely, and the two backed away to reset.

Her heart, or what she hoped was still her heart, pounded furiously, the fear of the blademaster’s swing sending panic shooting through her nerves and even as they stood back at a ready she could feel her hands trembling.

“That’s enough for now.” The blademaster, inquisitor and overly large minotaur declared.

Sophie breathed a sigh of relief only for a scoff to come from her other companion, Annalise. She turned over and stuck a tongue out at the ranger only for her target to sarcastically roll her eyes. It was in jest right? We are…still friends I think. The moment of doubt was quickly wiped away as the minotaur rapt her on the head with his massive knuckles, earring her a guffaw from the ranger.

“I don’t know what goes through your head little elf. But that was a poor performance, do you remember what I said at all?” Taurox barked.

“Yes…yes sir. A fight is the dance of the body.” She grumbled.

“And…?”

“Only with commitment can one overcome.” She murmured uncomfortably.

“Good. At least your brain works. Ranger!” He turned to Annalise, who was currently trying to carve a crutch.

“Yes sir! Inquisitor sir.” She drawled and the minotaur groaned.

“You can give me lip only because you’re injured but the second you recover…” He paused as if realizing that legs do not just recover from being violently removed, “Regardless, what did our little elf friend do wrong there?”

Annalise paused her carving and rubbed her chin, her lips pursed as Sophie found the girl’s striking brown eyes looking her up and down. As she wiggled nervously under the examination the ranger finally spun around to properly face them, almost knocking a soup cup off her log bench.

“Her movements were easily readable, her muscles and posture tensed more than enough for you to anticipate her next attacks.” Annalise spoke much more seriously, “And…she lacked intent to harm or the skill to prevent such an act otherwise.” Sophie looked up at the minotaur after the older girl’s response and found him nodding almost sagely at the answer.

“If you weren’t somewhat trained I’d have you run laps for your attitude. But,” He now turned to Sophie with a glare that signalled the worst thing ever, “The ranger speaks true in that you need to first train your mind to understand that when you strike, you strike. There is no room for hesitation, no room for doubts, when you fight, you commit to achieving the killing blow.” A lecture and more practice, Sophie winced at the critique but held her tongue.

“Yes sir.” She quietly groaned.

“That aside, your form is sloppy, your stance is too slow to recover, and your reactions are too forceful and too tense. Remember what I said?”

“A fight is the dance of the body?”

“Correct. Which means you need to be limber, to move your muscles and limbs as if they were part of an intricate dance. Almost instinctively and reflexively like you are dancing with your opponent. Unless it is a fencing duel or some special circumstance, you must float around like a dancer. No matter how tough or strong, to remain unpredictable and quick to action. So next time, watch me train and try to analyse how I utilise each muscle in motion. How to dance around the battlefield even despite my size.”

“Yes sir.”

“And…”

“Are you two done? The soup is getting colder and I have spent all morning cooking.” Annalise interrupted as she took a sip from her cup.

Taurox paused, stroking his chin before shrugging, “Heh, fair enough. Ruminate on the lesson young elf, replay the moments in your head and learn from them.”

“Yes sir.” She gave one last nod and followed Taurox over. Plopping herself on a nearby log she sighed in relief and eagerly grabbed the pre filled mug that Annalise had prepared. Her muscles grew sore as the adrenaline wore off and she turned to see Annalise staring at the crutch. A pang of guilt tore through her heart once more and she lowered her head to stare at the food, hoping that food would shake off this strange melancholy.

It had been just under a week since they crossed the border, though her own mental state had improved after they left the Mistveil. A strange sense of discomfort still churned within the pits of her stomach in her free time, a sense that she had been the unwitting catalyst to so much misfortune on everyone around her, that perhaps if she were not here things might’ve been different. The only thing that lifted it away was whenever Annalise would chat, almost like they used to, or when she threw herself to training with Inquisitor Taurox.

After they had crossed the border, they had paused multiple times as even with how skilled the blademaster was, signs of wildlife or large migrations still brought them to a standstill. The risk of engagement is far too great with a cripple and a civilian for the minotaur to also watch over. It was on the second day that the minotaur finally grew fed up and decided that Sophie needed to learn how to fight. Without much fanfare he had simply declared this fact. Despite her initial protests, upon remembering how tired Anna always seemed to look, she resolved to no longer be a burden and took up the challenge.

Unfortunately for Sophie, she had the stark realisation that despite slaying a few undead, she was still woefully inadequate when it came to combat. Thus began an intense bootcamp, the party’s progress slowed to a crawl as a four day journey turned to a week. They stopped and trained whenever the opportunity arose much to her horror and the ranger’s amusement. Drills, exercises, sparring, and even survival skills were intensively taught as she found more and more of her time consumed by the endeavor. Perhaps she was improving, but that she could only assume, on the bright side, she found herself having more time focused on training and less on thinking. Perhaps for the better.

Drinking down the soupy concoction with wild onions, herbs, roots and ration jerky was nutritious if not the most flavourful thing in Cyndralia. Every once in a while, she would think fondly of the meal Anna and her shared back in Eichafen, the spectacular tastes, smells and flavours. Then she would wonder what Eva would think of it, and try to ask Annalise for the name only to realise that it would likely not remain standing given the fact that traitors attacked from within as the undead swarmed from without. And like that, she would find her thoughts growing darker, more despondent until she clammed up in silence once more.

At least I talk more now, she gave herself a bittersweet smile and downed the rest of the lukewarm mug.

Twiddling her thumbs Sophie turned to find Annalise looking at her and stared back, holding her gaze for a moment before she grew uncomfortable and surrendered. Fidgeting uneasily she looked at Taurox to find him also looking at her. Profoundly uncomfortable she squirmed for a few seconds and the other two burst out into laughter.

“Wha-what?!” Sophie protested.

Annalise shook her head and pointed to the inquisitor. Dread filled Sophie’s heart only for the minotaur to end things with a snort.

“You were so off in your own world you didn’t hear a word I said didn’t you?” Taurox beamed maliciously.

“I-I…” Sophie stuttered and gulped.

“Hmm?”

“No-nothing, sorry.” She lowered her head.

Taurox sighed and stood up. Gesturing to the wider forest with an exaggerated wave, the minotaur’s beady eyes looked almost nostalgic for but a brief moment before his instructor's gaze took hold.

“We, young elf, are but a day or two away from Harweald and then another week and a few days to Melisgrad. I was telling the ranger how we would make the approach and what background we’re giving the two of you.”

Sophie looked at Taurox with confusion, why would we need a background?

Meeting her gaze a wry smile appeared on the minotaur’s face, “This is why you need to focus on your surroundings even when resting, young elf. I know that look, and while it wouldn’t matter in a more peaceful world, we live in times of strife. And with Viktor, I mean Inquisitor von Kranz confirming that Melton was likely marching to war, we need to make sure that whatever we tell them won’t have the two of you hanged as spies or saboteurs.”

Sophie stifled a surprised gasp and looked at Annalise who only shrugged.

“I’m a ranger and registered adventurer Sophie, I should be fine but you…” Annalise trailed off.

“You are not just from Carrador but also an elf and well…let’s just say the Kingdom of Melton might not see either of those traits as exactly desirable. Even less so if Sergeant Wilde’s observations are accurate.” Taurox finished the thought for Annalise.

Sophie remained silent, the daunting possibility of creating more problems for her companions brewing up all manner of anxiety.

“The ranger had made a good point earlier,” Taurox raised a bullish eyebrow and continued, “My, and soon your escort’s inquisitorial statuses, could get you through most of Melton’s bureaucratic nightmare but at the end of the day, we are inquisitorial agents trying to remain discreet. Hence while in a few cases we could help actively, our orders are to passively support and monitor you from the background; for that I apologise, little elf.”

She frowned and scrunched up her nose, for the inquisitor did speak truth but still left her with no real ideas. She ran her hands through the worn down cloak wrapped around her, she could try to cover her head and ears, but that was only a temporary solution. Looking back up she found the minotaur and ranger deep in thought, the group collectively trying to think of a solution until she noticed her friend’s stump and the guilt gave her an idea.

“Umm…” She whispered and the other two slowly turned their attention to her.

“Yes?” Annalise asked, a frown also etched onto her face.

“I-I…I have an idea.” Sophie nervously stammered.

"Huh what did she say?" Taurox asked from across the camp.

“She has an idea.” Annalise answered for her.

“Oh? Do go on, and speak up.”

Sophie looked to the two and wrapped her hand around the mug for support.

“Well…umm…” She paused, unsure of how not to offend the girl, “Your leg.”

The brief statement earned her an amused glare from Annalise, a clear warning to watch her next words and she squirmed under the pressure.

“Well I take it you’re not just making fun of me for losing a leg.” The ranger chuckled darkly and Sophie quickly shook her whole body.

“No! No! Would never!” She pleaded and the other girl quickly put on a more sympathetic expression.

“Alright, alright, sorry Sophie, just…joking to myself. You can go on.” Annalise said, apologetically but tinged with a hint of annoyance.

Sophie sighed and tried again to form a more coherent sentence. Clearly, stupid, speak clearly.

“Umm…I’m Eva’s maid,” She raised her voice and paused gettingt two confused nods before continuing, “As long as we’re here I could be yours.” And perhaps also make myself less of a burden in your eyes, but that part she kept to herself.

The other two stared at her in silence and she wondered if she said something offensive when the minotaur nodded sagely.

“It could work. Sometimes the simplest answers work the best.” His low voice now a smooth but heavy grumble. “You are, pardon my bluntness, a one legged ranger. It would make sense for there to be a minder, and in this case why not a maid?”

Annalise stared daggers at the two, her sense of self worth flaring up as the idea felt condescending in her mind. But, before long her expression softened at Sophie’s downcast eyes and groaned in resignation.

“Fine.”

The minotaur nodded approvingly and Sophie felt a small spark flicker to life inside of her. She was a maid first and foremost, and though the journey had been tough she was one again. This was something she knew how to do, how to ease her mistress’s burdens and serve as an extension of oneself. She would make Annalise feel better and help her along this journey, she would be the protector this time around. And I won’t fail this time.

Seeing the little elf perk up, the minotaur clapped his hands to regain everyone’s attention.

“Now that we’ve decided the broad strokes we need to come up with the finer details, things that you will have to memorize in case guards or other such entities ask. One such point, which I’ve had time to mull over is how you got here. In this instance the truth is the most effective deterrent” Taurox’s voice boomed across their small camp, “So if anyone asks how you arrived at Melton tell them the general truth but not all of it.”

“The general truth?” The ranger queried.

“You arrived because a quest went wrong and the undead attacked in force. Fortunately church templars and inquisitors were nearby and rendered what aid we could. Choosing to follow your rescuers given that Eichafen was attacked as well, you arrived here. Because let’s face it, a platoon of templars and dozens of civilians aren’t going to stay unreported, least of which with how Vik-Inquisitor von Krantz pulled rank. But that’s the gist of what you both need to be able to say anyways.”

Sophie looked at Annalise and gave her a small nod, receiving one in return.

“Yeah we could do that.” The older girl replied on their behalf.

“Good. But for now you two get some rest and I’ll figure out the finer details, call it an inquisitor’s instinct but something feels wrong. I suspect the coming weeks might prove more harrowing than planned so enjoy the calm when you can.” Taurox added as he moved to practice his own skills, throwing a look to the elf.

Sophie had wanted to relax but her shoulders drooped at the sight, she understood the command well enough, time to watch him flex his skills and learn stances, she grumbled. Irritated, she managed to cast a glance at Annalise, who had nonchalantly returned to carving out her crutch, and felt rejuvenated at once. That’s right! I can’t burden her more, you just wait Anna, I’ll be your sword-arm and shield soon enough! A small huff escaped her lips, and though watching the minotaur practice his techniques was torture, it was torture she was willing to endure. As determination flooded back she also couldn’t help but shake that small uneasy feeling in the back of her mind, the feeling that happened to agree with the inquisitor, and that the sooner she could be useful in a fight, the better.