The moment when Magnus meets someone for the first time is always tense.  It's hard to know what sort of horrors play out in a human's mind when they first see a minotaur and Magnus knows the lore of his race is not always balanced with a dose of reality.  Sure, his kind have killed many humans, but those numbers pale in comparison to the legions of men killed by their own kind each year.  Somehow, in their eyes, murder seemed far less terrifying than the prospect of being eaten, a difference that seemed inconsequential to Magnus himself.

The only thing more tense than meeting someone for the first time, was meeting many people, for men tended to feed on and amplify each other's fears.  If one person was to react poorly, there was a chance that a group of men might get it in their heads to rid the world of one more minotaur.

And so, not for the first time in his life, Magnus finds himself with an over-dry mouth, eyes that snap to the source of any movement, and twitchy fingers that are spring-loaded to come to the aide of his self defense.

The particulars of the situation probably don't help much either, for Magnus is leading Macchus, the bandit who was captured from the caves the previous day, who's arms are bound behind his back.  Also, while Magnus had expected to simply be calling on Einion Broskow, a young noble and former army lieutenant who was now the governor of the small village of Three Corners, instead he finds that he had interrupted some sort of meeting...  Even as he had opened the door to the moderate sized structure which doubled the government headquarters and the governor's residence, the sounds of agitated voices carried to him, though they stopped abruptly the moment the door was fully open.

The men within gathered around a wide table, upon which a map was sprawled.  Center in the fray, with both of his fists curled and rested upon the table is a young man, who dressed in a fine riding jacket and sports an immaculately groomed mustache with hair combed back in a fashion to look as if it is blowing in the wind.

There's no doubt in Magnus's mind that this man is Enion Broskow.

To Enion's left is a much older man, who leans forward over the map, though his empty hand retreats from it when he recognizes the newcomers entering the room.  He wears a mail shirt with short cropped hair and beard that splashed with nearly as much grey as black.  The man's face is marked with scars, one in particular that runs all the way from his left cheek to his jaw, cleaving his beard like the split of an axe.

To Enion's right are two more men, each of whom seem nearly as out of place as Magnus.  The first has skin darker even than Sajaa, though his cheekbones are high and his head and face are shaved entirely clean, or else are naturally bald.  He is the tallest man in the room, perhaps only a few inches short of Magnus himself.  He wears thick leather hides across his chest and he stares at Magnus with probing and distrustful eyes.

The other man is near his opposite, shorter by far than the rest, he wears his hair tied in a knot at the back of his head and his beard drips down several inches below his chin.  His eyes are thin and near expressionless, though it seems as if every muscle in the man's face, the only part of his body which is exposed, is fixed taut.  The bulky robe which covers his body is so loose it could hide near anything.

The last of the men stands behind all the others, a neat but plain smock and tights covering his body and an expression of extreme discomfort on his face.

The moment of discomfort passes, and Magnus finds himself extremely grateful that Giles had volunteered to come along with him.

"Giles!"  Broskow lights up the moment the soldier walks in the door just behind Magnus, removing his fists from the table and looking at the three in all a new light.  "Back so soon from the expedition?  Did you find the bandits?  Did you kill them all?"

OOC:  It is 0800 on the 5th of January.  Thanks gents for the patience.  This thread is for Magnus and Giles.

You have returned to Three Corners and have gone to Broskow's home/office to report back on the mission and offer up Macchus for whatever his fate may be.  The others would have already left the town for the caves again.  A closer look will inform you that the map is of this general region, and it has the town, the fort, as well as the Makarem and several towns just south of the river displayed.

Giles would recognize the man in the back as Cinar, Broskow's main administrator.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:53, Sun 23 Apr 2023.

Giles could feel Magnus's growing discomfort and suspected he knew the real reason was the thick pelt and somewhat monstrous stature. In reality though, Giles had seem many men accept Magnus, even if not in their hearts then enough to have not put a blade in his back at the battle they had both partaken; that was a win, Giles thought cynically.

"Do not worry friend. We'll be in safe company here..." he said, hoping that Broskow's virtue held out. "... whatever can be said about officers and governors is that they like to save face. As a guest of his you'll be alright. he voiced on the slow walk to the front door. He said it guessing at the reality of Magnus's ostensible agitation.

---

"Giles!" Broskow said, and Giles couldn't stifle the smile that he returned at the warm greeting. He took a purposeful look around the room, and nodded in acknowledgement of the other people and then replied "Governor Broskow, we are indeed returned. As per your request, the matter was dealt with as swiftly as we could muster.

If you would allow me to introduce my friend here, and credit him with leading the expedition that resulted in our successes. Magnus, please meet Governor Broskow, a dear and good friend. Likewise, everyone meet Magnus... To everyone I have not met before, I am Giles Hind and am pleased to make your acquaintance." he said, recalling the formalities of his father's court. Admittedly, the delicacies of formal introduction were likely lost through the passage of time but Giles did make a grand effort, at least.

Once he had introduced Magnus, and potentially alleviated any of the tension that may have arisen. Giles stepped fully into the room and said "We brought one of them..."

While speaking Giles had taken in the men surrounding Broskow, and secretly considering that it be odd counsel Broskow is keeping. He thought about voicing it in a light way but in fact erred on the side of caution. He had also purposely informed Magnus that he did not know the others. Except for the governor and his administrator - who also appeared to be decidedly uncomfortable with Broskow's entourage.

It had made Giles feel somewhat foolish for reassuring Magnus.

OOC: Glad to be back in it!
This message was last edited by the player at 09:08, Mon 01 Aug 2022.

Magnus had clearly not expected an introduction to a group of important men.

His hooves and legs were tinged with the dust of the road and an off white crust of salt hung about the neck of his armor and where his helmet had plastered his bristly head hair down against his skull. What was more, he had yet to make repairs or bathe, so a dark blotch of dried blood stained the links of his mail where the javelin had punched through his hauberk, the rent segments hung loose and jingled faintly when he moved.

He lingered behind Giles at first, his shield left outside the door, his thick plate helmet with its metal crest tucked under one arm, the other clutched the rope that bound Macchus's hand behind his back.

The Minotaur looked haggard and parched, his fur sun bleached several shades lighter than it had been, and wary now at all the attention.

"Sir" Magnus dipped his broad shaggy head, more than content it seemed to have Giles a few paces ahead, and Macchus head out before him like some kind of shield.

Broskow gives Giles a quizzical look as he mentions that Magnus lead the expedition to get the bandits.  He seems to give Magnus too a new appreciation, staring at him with questioning eyes for several moments without saying a word.  In fact, he seems so confused that it takes him a moment to realize that Giles is making introductions.

"Ah, well."  Broskow starts, recovering from his momentary lapse as his eyes return to the soldier.  "You see, this whole episode has taught me that I am quite on my own when it comes to protecting myself and this town.  Bandits!  To think they could have attacked us at any point!"  Broskow's words begin to become punctuated, his eyes enlarging slightly as he stares into space just ahead of himself.  "And the fort has made it quite clear that whatever their responsibilities are, they don't include the safety of the town."

Broskow takes several heavy breaths before he looks back up again, smiling as he encounters Giles's gaze.

"Well, I've taken matters of my protection into my own hands.  I've hired these two men as retainers,"  He gestures to the two on his right side.  "Kempei..."  The man to the far right with the long hair and beard bows slightly, flexing downwards slightly both at the hip and at the neck, though he keeps his eyes fixed on Magnus.  "...And Tonton."  The bald black man nods in turn.

"And this," Broskow turns to his left, gesturing a palm towards the older man at his side.  "Is Leonitus.  He's a veteran of the Border Wars and knows this area quite well despite hailing from the east.  He has agreed to come on as an advisor."

Broskow does not make any move to introduce Cinar.

When Giles makes mention of the prisoner however, Broskow's demeanor changes, his eyes opening wide and his smile creasing upwards at the edges like a cheshire cat.

"Caught then are you?  TALK! you filthy traitor.  What did you seek?  Ruining this town?  Embarrassing me?  Overthrowing me?  Did you seek to be governor yourself?!"

Broskow's breaths now come in labored huffs, his eyes staring daggers straight into Macchus's own.  For his part, Macchus retreats a step, bumping into Magnus, who holds the man fast.

"Talk or you die here on this spot!"  Broskow spits, putting both of his hands on the map in front of him as he leans forward ominously.

OOC:  Stopped here to allow for player interaction.

There was a word to describe Broskow, and now that he'd explained his situation it had become a little more clear. His interaction with the prisoner had further clarified the man's position on things. Giles cocked an eyebrow in Magnus's direction.

Giles also didn't like the company that Broskow had decided to keep but he wouldn't say anything about it now. Instead he nodded as the man ranted and then gesture calmly.

"Alright Broskow, easy... he said gently, gesturing as well ... let  Magnus and I deal with the prisoner. We have ways to find out secrets that he might hold and he's proven to at least be willing to answer questions we've asked already. Give us some time to question him further - something we're best to do given our intimate knowledge of the situation. I'll be sure to relay any information to you, though. he lied. Rather that, he thought, than let anger spiral out of control and leave Macchus to the whims of a man on the edge of craziness, assisted by unknown associates.

The mention of the fort and it's lack of care for surrounding areas prickled Giles a little bit, but he held his tongue in retort. He paused a moment and then continued,

"Once done here, if we can find a place to settle for the night, it'd be appreciated. If we could have someone show us where is available that'd be grand. he said, hoping that Broskow might choose Cinar to show them where they could stay. He was also careful to afford correct levels of respect to a governor without supplicating too much. Giles and Broskow were of similar rank in the army and status, so in almost all regards they were equal. Despite the man's volatility, however, he did seem to afford status the proper attention.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 18:09, Tue 09 Aug 2022.

On the whole Magnus seemed far more reserved than Giles did. The Minotaur was privately surprised at just how comfortable Giles was with his speech to the Governor himself, but Giles enjoyed some advantages that Magnus could never hope to aspire to, so in a way it made sense.

Macchus's rearward progress was checked by a firm palm followed by a tightening grip. "I'd answer 'im if I were you" Magnus advised in his inhumanly deep tone, calm but serious.

Inwardly Magnus really hoped that the Governor would not want him executed on the spot. There was something uncomfortable about walking with a man all this way just to kill him out of hand. Magnus would do it of course, the man was obviously guilty of heinous crimes, but that did not mean that he was looking forward to it. It had been a long day, with a lot of blood, and his thoughts strayed to a barrel of cool water in the shade.

Almost reflexively he took in the reactions of the other, quieter men in the room.

Though Macchus steps backwards into Magnus, the minotaur quickly puts the man back into place, tightening his grip to check his movement should he try and resist further.

Magnus glances at the other men, noting near expressionless concentration from Kempei, a fixed and hungry stare towards the prisoner from Tonton, and thoughtful glance towards Broskow from Leonitus.

He leaves the conversation to Giles though, who spares not a moment before using his slick tongue and influence to try and check the aggression of Broskow.  As Giles reasons, the two men are essentially equals, both lieutenants in the army, sons of relatively minor nobles (though now that Giles thinks on it, he isn't sure that Broskow has still retained his commission and he had never really had the occasion to ask about Broskow's family).  It is clear however, from the twisted look that Broskow returns Giles, that the governor does not appreciate the moderation.

"Perhaps stepping back a bit would be use."  Leonitus offers in an easy voice, causing Broskow's expression of ire to shift immediately from Giles to the old soldier.

"Let us look at this through reasoned eyes."  Leonitus says, taking on Broskow's look of distain without missing so much as a single beat, nor changing his tone, nor even acknowledging Browskow's apparent bloodthirst.

"We have no evidence..."  Leonitus continues, "That these men were doing anything apart from simple theft...  All they did directly was to plunder the roads around this town, steal the shipments of ore and supplies, and capture the men that accompanied such trade..."

Broskow's expression slowly settles somewhat.  His jaw still clenches, though he seems to be biting back some of the more natural, raw emotion.

"Now of course we must understand the consequences these acts caused indirectly."  Leonitus counters, gesturing a palm towards the captive.  "Their action caused losses in men and materials, reductions in trade, revolt in the mines, increased scrutiny from Craine...  In short utter chaos."

Just ahead of Magnus, Macchus alternates rapid fire glances between Leonitus and Broskow, his mouth opening and shutting as if to speak, though he can't seem to manage to utter a single word, nor does Leonitus stop talking to allow it.

"Now, of course, we have discussed other threats that are much more concerning."  Leonitus goes on, finally looking directly at Broskow with a knowing eye.  "It has not been six months since our neighbors to the south organized and executed an assault on this land that could have reignited the Frontier Wars all again...  My suggestion milord, is to make an example of this pitiful thief...  A show of confidence and strength easily visible to your people that will boost the morale at the mines and ease the fears of our settlers..."

His demeanor slowly settling from anger to thoughtfulness, Broskow narrows his eyes, and removes his glance from Leonitus to Macchus once again, bringing a single hand to his chin in thought...

OOC:  A couple of notes - firstly, both of you would remember what Leonitus is talking about, as you were both a part of the defense against the Wazifi attack on Three Corners back in July.  Neither Leonitus nor Broskow were a part of the fort's defense that you recall.

secondly no need to interrupt here if you don't wish to do so, though if either of you wish to influence Broskow with what to do with the captive, please roll vs. Diplomacy.  Note that this will be a contest of skills, so succeeding your roll will not necessarily result in getting what you want.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:25, Mon 15 Aug 2022.

Letting the conversation play out, the son of the Hind family re-evaluated his understanding of the men around him.

As to make an example of anyone Broskow, I feel the example best set is that one of fair justice, as our friend Leonitus has suggested. he agreed point that justice should be fair and measured against the level of the crimes.

However, while it would be good indeed to dissuade Wazifi attacks on our empire. I suspect dealing harshly with bandits and malefactors , to whatever degree, will not do it. The attack was organised and driven with an army's motivation. Punishing criminals will not deter that.

"There was a turn coat that came out with us, was probably here in town scoutin' for some time before he signed on." Magnus explained, still keeping the man from backing up any further. "Might not have caught him till it was too late, but we had sharp eyes, and luck." the Minotaur admitted, and used his other hand to wipe some sweat from the corner of his eye.

"Suppose what I'm tryin' to say my lord, is that there could be more about. Maybe saw us bring this one here." Magnus had no idea what a proper term of address might be, but "Lord" seemed to please most.

"Justice... yes."  Broskow responds after Giles speaks, latching on to the single word, his eyes alighting on Macchus with a hungry look.

When Magnus speaks, however, Broskow very quickly seems to take in every word.

"A turncoat?"  His eyes bulge, still boring holes into Macchus's forehead.  "In this town?  Who was this man, tell me everything about him!  Who else is here!  Talk you filthy traitor!"

Unable to step back farther, Macchus squirms against his restraints in extreme discomfort.  His eyes shift back and forth, back and forth between Broskow and Leonitus, the only two men on the opposite side of the table who have talked so far.

Leonitus seems about to break the tension with a few words of his own, though before he can open his mouth, Macchus begins blurting out sentences one overtop of the next.

"I didn't know him!  He weren't part of our group, we was just hired, hired to take..."

"You lie!"  Broskow interrupts with a scream.  "You knew him!  You are just trying to cover for..."

But Macchus has not even slowed his own blurted speech.  Instead he raises his volume against the onslaught, his words gushing out like water over a falls though he continues to cower back.  "... the shipments and the slaves.  We got our cut and didn't ask no questions!"

Kempei's eyes narrow towards Macchus, and he takes a single step around the edge of the table, his hand curling upwards slightly in readiness.

"Your filthy, traitor friends who are plotting my demise!"  Broskow redoubles his own volume, shouting across Macchus so that neither of them can be properly heard.

"Enough!"  Leonitus booms, his eyes staring daggers at Macchus, though he looks off towards Broskow as well once the prisoner is cowed.  "We need not make this so hard!  You."  His eyes stare back at Macchus, his jaw squared forward and his voice as sharp as a blade.  "Who hired you?  What is the name of your leader?"

Macchus stares back at Leonitus in horror, his words caught in his throat for several seconds despite the seven men all staring in his direction.

"Niall!"  Macchus finally squeaks the word, just as Kempei takes another half-step forward, now only a pace or so away from Giles.

"There!"  Leonitus spits, turning back towards Broskow, his frustration spent.  "Now you just need find this Niall and you shall be done with this!"

"Where is he?"  Broskow asks, his voice for once controlled and his eyes focused.

But Macchus seems too overwhelmed in the moment to answer, and Magnus can feel the rope tugging against his hands with the shudders of a man overcome by emotion.

Giles watched the interchange, and the changing emotions of Broskow, the seemingly rational mind of Leonitus and then the absolute fear Macchus was showing.

"We could find him..." Giles offered in a calm and unfazed tone. Macchus was a pitiful man, and his activities were truly awful, but watching the unfolding effects of craziness unleased on the helpless and bound man did not sit well with Giles either.

After he'd made the offer to Broskow Giles cast an intent eye at the man approaching them and glared at him with a hint of warning. He considered speaking the warning, but settled on his gaze being enough.

Probably a couple of rolls here?


07:47, Today: Giles 'J'naeth' Hind rolled 13 using 3d6 with rolls of 6,5,2.  intimidation?
07:47, Today: Giles 'J'naeth' Hind rolled 7 using 3d6 with rolls of 3,1,3.  diplomacy? // to offer to find Niall, and use Maccchus as the mechanism through which to find him.

Magnus looked a little hesitant, if only because he was still worn out from a long day.

"I'd be glad to have the work mi'Lord" Magnus agreed. "Tracking down this Niall, but with all due respect, I'd like to settle things for today, get a good night's rest, and get at it fresh in the morning."

He also wanted to get paid, while he was here and the men with control of the first purse were on hand.

"Afraid not many would see fit to talk to me in my current state." he gave a weary smile.

Macchus face draws pale as he stares in horror at the men around him and finds each set of eyes boring back.

Giles and Magnus both offer to find Niall...  by appearances the principal offender, the man responsible for the menace in the caves.  Broskow however, has eyes for only Macchus and when his question returns only a few moments of silence, he leans into the map laden table and repeats himself with his calm voice, though his tone is laced with iron.

"Where is Niall?"

Macchus shifts his gaze back and forth between Broskow and Leonitus, his face splashed with horror.  His final answer is nothing more than a squeak as he shudders back again into Magnus's resolute grip.  "He's dead!  His head were smashed in like a watermelon burst on the vine!"

Far from being mollified by the answer, Broskow leans forward a touch farther, his jaw now squared forward and his eyes hardened with anger.

"Is this a joke to you?"  The governor starts, his voice still icy calm.  "We ask who is the turncoat and you say you don't know him?  We ask if there are more and you say yes, but that they are dead?  What use are you?"

Broskow stands up abruptly, pushing himself up from the chart table with both hands.

"The more you talk, the more I agree with Leonitus.  Your best purpose is to serve as an example...  So, let us get some use out of you then."

Broskow turns his head towards Kempei, who still stands on alert, the nearest one to Giles, Magnus, and the prisoner.

"Kill him."  Broskow spits.

In an instant, steel flashes into Kempei's hands, a wicked looking, curved and thin longsword which he holds in his right hand as he steps forward, an efficient, stoic look set upon his face.

"Wait!"  Macchus shouts, squirming again against his bonds, though he has no hope in his current state of overpowering the minotaur holding him steady.

OOC:  Stopping here just in case either of you want to take drastic action.  Magnus still has Macchus held, preventing him from attempting his own defense.  If you do wish to defend Macchus, it would be possible to do a fast draw along with a parry, a sacrificial dodge, or possibly some other defense that I haven't considered.

Otherwise, I'll just keep moving things forward.  Thanks again for the patience.  This thread in particular is taking a lot of in depth thought as to how NPCs are interacting with the scene.

One of the more difficult aspects of being inhuman was the inability to really influence the world around you.

Somebody like Magnus could never hold a position of any real importance in Megalos, it simply wasn't done, and the best he could hope for, the best he had been unable to come up with, was to work for those that did have that advantage.

Sure, Magnus could act. If he were so inclined he could toss Macchus out of the way, rebuke Kempei or Broskow, or even bide for time. But realistically he could do this once, before he found himself unemployed, imprisoned or perhaps even under attack.

And he was not going to spend that one opportunity on a wretch like Macchus.

Maggnus stiffened, gripped Macchus hard to avoid the man wriggling away and perhaps getting getting maimed, and turned his head to the side to avoid any spatter.

It was sad, truly, but it was the way of the world.

Giles shrugged.

"If you want to slaughter the man like a pig in your own command quarters, then that's your decision... he glanced at Kempei and then Macchus and turned to leave the building.

Giles was too tired and sore to really be dealing with an unhinged noble child of middling rank with delusions and paranoia. Similarly, he was not in a state of mind where he could be bothered to deal with Broskow's new company. It didn't bode well, but alas, at present there wasn't a great deal Giles could do to remedy it.

Macchus had made his bed, and it appeared Broskow was making his.

"We're going to make camp and rest a little" Giles said, ushering Megnus out the door and indicating to leave Macchus to death.

When Macchus's death was imminent, Giles and Magnus set about coping in different ways.  Magnus tightened his grip and turned his head, not struggling against but deferring to inevitability.  Giles on the other hand, took a last second measure, attempting to shed some light on the brutality, though he had no real expectation of change.  His low expectations were probably for the better, for he had not even gotten a full word out of his mouth before Macchus started shouting and Kempei took a quick step forward with his sword cutting forward as quick as an arrow from a bow.

"Wait!  It was...!"

The blade sinks between the ropes and Macchus's ribs with a sickly think!  The mans eyes bulge as his mouth gibbers, staggering to a knee as Magnus loosens his grip on the rope and lets him drop to the floor.  Though the minotaur's head had been turned, he is surprised to find that there is barely a speck of blood to speak of in the room, apart from the last half-foot of Kempei's sword, which he is already cleaning with a rag.  Magnus looks down to see the back of Macchus's shirt and the ropes which bind him already attaining a reddened gleam around the edges.

Sickened of the scene, Giles says a few words before turning and heading towards the door.

"What a waste..."  Leonitus sighs, a half-smirk on his face as he glances back to Broskow.  "But he shall be useful as a symbol.  Perhaps Kempei and Tonton will take care of it.  A display of will to show our strength.  But symbols are not useful on their own...  We will have to redouble the efforts to ensure the safety of the caravans and the mine...  Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to increase the fortifications of this town as well.  I have told you of my connections in the east of course.  If needed, I can write back for the workers with haste.  And I know a handful of useful mercenaries within the area that can service as guard for the time being.  What do you say your honor?"

Broskow smiles at the carnage and his grin only widens at the title.  "Of course!"  He replies almost immediately, waving at Tonton and Kempei to remove the corpse from the floor.  "Yes, put him up somewhere public!  But not too close!  I won't have him stinking up my town as he rots!  And yes!  We'll need every hand we can get for now.  Any contacts you have I shall need Leonitus, and write to Lord Taveon for any assistance he can provide, for it seems that Duke Bran has already forgotten the assistance he has promised, and the fort seems to promise nothing!"

"And you!"  Broskow turns to Magnus, not even watching as his two henchmen lift the already dead Macchus from the floor.  "I can also use someone of your... stature.  You had said that you were in need of work, yes?  I have coin, and can promise you shall be well compensated for ensuring the safety of my town."

OOC:  The way I see it in my head, Giles has just stepped out of the door and is waiting for Magnus, so he's privy to at least the conversation above.  Feel free to post if you want to or you can just leave the last post to Magnus.

Magnus, you've basically been offered employment as a guard for the town and caravans.  Feel free to respond in any way you see fit.  I think that's the last bit of conversation that I needed to include in this thread, though feel free to ask questions and extend the conversation as you see fit.

Magnus felt a wave of...something, pass over him as he he felt Macchus die in his grip. Perhaps it was a little bit of soul dying that he would never get back, or his heart hardening that much more. It could have been a memory seeping in that would haunt him in the future, or just his body responding with a little bit of adrenaline, whatever was left to give after the long hot day.

At twenty years of age, the Minotaur already felt tired. He was well aware that there were plenty of young men that had gone to war far earlier than himself, that had likely seen more, and done more, but it suddenly struck him that he had done a lot, earned a lot, and seen a lot in his fairly short time on Yrth. That perhaps he should start enjoying more of life, or that he should start thinking about the future.

The old adage of living by the sword and dying by the sword came to mind. Here he was in the company of Lords and seasoned mercenaries, but did he look up to them? Did he respect their seemingly casual ability to take life? Or dole out coin? He didn't, and part of him wondered how long he could really do this before it would be his turn to wind up on the wrong side of a blade.

It was one of those moments where he suddenly understood why his Father had gone off to try to run a roadside inn. Magnus had thought it ridiculous at the time, and now, he could start to glimpse the wisdom of it.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Broskow turning to him with an offer of work.

Now Magnus had a fair bit of money, but as his recent excursion to the big city had reminded him, it was not enough to retire on. Not even close, not even if he some how managed to sell off his things.

He wanted to stay in Three Corners, he had friends here, people were used to him here. He could go armed here and not cause a stir, which was valuable to him in its own right.

"I'd be...grateful for the work sir." Magnus replied, not looking at the body. "If the coin is as good as you say, I'd be inclined to stay around for a time and help look after things."

And with that he fell to discussing the details, if room or board would be included, just how much Broskow was offering, and if he could obtain a writ that would help to prove his employment and right to bear arms if questioned by anybody visiting the area, to avoid any confusion.

Giles waited outside, pacing more than anything. He idly itched his stomach before realising he was poking at the spear wound that still marked his body, even more bothered by that than he was his current scars.

Fucking mercenaries! Giles raged inside, thinking to himself with exasperation at Broskow's choice of companions. It had put him out of sorts, and Giles's mind was racing at the speed of thought.

Killing should always come at a cost to oneself. Giles had always believed this, but he couldn't quite recall a time when anyone had specifically told him this. Those who had nothing left to give or, of whom there was nothing left could kill with the coldness of the foreigner with a curved blade. It didn't sit well with the man but within a moment of crystal clarity Giles realised he was angry that they had besmirched and shat all over the Fort, efforts of soldiers he'd commanded and even him.

Talk of making a lesson, and what do they do? Cut down a bound man without a second thought to display him like the of some flag of victory. And with the back swing, an audacious claim that we did nothing from our sacred and protected walls at the fort. Giles paced while ranting internally.

The man was out of control, Giles knew it from somewhere deep. However he rationalised it whether logically or through his mangled gut Broskow would be trouble. Gold and blood have never mixed well. Add in scum and villainy and there is recipe for disaster.

Magnus spends some few moments discussing details of employment, but the presence of the corpse and the discussions of its display makes the minotaur keen to make the conversation short.  Within the minute, Magnus has hurried back out of the door, his mind festering with thoughts and interpretations of the interaction to which he was just privy.

Off in the distance, Magnus sees Giles slowly sauntering away, deep within his own thoughts as well.  Eager to get the soldier's take on events, Magnus hurries to catch up...

"Giles"

Magnus called as he lengthened his stride to catch up. He was still dusty and sweat encrusted, stooped a little from the weight of his gear and armor which jingled and creaked as he picked up speed.

"You thirsty?" he asked, his bovine features hard to read as always, but the tone of his voice deep, warm and familiar. "I'm buyin'"

Giles had cooled off from his initial and furious outburst by the time Magnus had reached him.  Instead, he was looking out into the darker night and being more contemplative in his thoughts; he was also itching the scar in his gut by rubbing his once shiny, and now soiled, damaged armour that had been a gift from his father.

The man didn't turn when Magnus asked about the drink and instead just sighed. Tell me, friend, what purpose do you find in life? What of it when you invest so much of yourself into things only to watch them blow away like leaves on the wind? Giles asked, looking into the darkness and feeling some allegorical rhetoric of magnificent dimensions was just on the tip of his tongue.

Opening his mouth Giles felt the words turn to ash in the back of his throat as he remembered Broskow's madness and all those that had died around him. Instead came a grimace as he realised his words had been profound and pretentious beyond measure.

"Sorry Magnus, cold killing has never sat well with me." he said, scratching the old wound again and then nodding.

It took another few heartbeats before Giles took in a deep breath, and with some uncovered energy flicked his blue-eyed gaze to the minotaur and smiled easily. His voice had lost the edge and become light tone. "Lets go, we deserve a few." he turned and started walking, gesturing the large creature to match his gait and then added somewhat flippantly.

"I'm starting to believe that I can't die when you're around... Who'd have thought that a big cow could bring such luck, eh?" he said teasingly. Another couple of steps: one, two and he added jovially "That fucker's blade had gone just a handspan off from where it went in and you probably would be a cow now...".

Gile's sigh seemed to catch Magnus a little off guard. While the encounter upstairs had been sobering for him as well, it seemed to have hit Giles all the harder, and the Minotaur eyed him with concern.

"Well...let's not test that one, yeah?" he suggested wryly. "But now that you mention it, you ever think about buyin' some heavier armor? Even just a breast plate or somethin'?" he asked as they walked.

"As far as purpose..." he paused thoughtfully. "I guess just makin' my parents proud honestly." he admitted. "Did I ever tell you they were slaves? Both of them, at some point in their lives. My dad got his freedom first, then got my mom out...but I was free born here in Megalos, baptized, learned the language young. They went through a lot tryin' to give me all of that...just, tryin' not to waste the opportunity I guess." he recalled a little nostalgically.

"Why? What's yours?" he asked in turn.

Giles nodded. "I've worn this armour since it was gifted to me from my family. Honestly, I'd never considered wearing anythiing more than that. But I think the point is well made and perhaps something that I should look into. Maybe you could get some while we're at it. he said in response. Pausing a moment to remember fondly his childhood, before the mage academy and then the rough soldier life. Giles could have thought that things hadn't quite gone the way he'd planned, but it wasn't wholly true; perhaps his life wasn't as one would have expected it to go. But it was certainly on the path he'd decided for it.

"I guess it hadn't really occurred to me. My family are from the North East of Megalos. Pretty much just north of Kethalos. I did see some people wearing heavier armour, but most of the people from my father's estate wore lighter armour. There was a lot of fighting with the barbarian types from the Nomads. Quite a few battles were boat to boat also - and
 there just wasn't much of a place for men wearing sheets of metal in the area. he said also revealing part of his own upbringing.

The conversation moved on and Magnus revealed that he was borne from slavery and that his parents had sacrificed a lot to give him some opportunities that had been taken from them. "It takes a lot for slaves to become free, I think it speaks greatly of your mother and father and from what I've seen of you, you have inherited their good treats and are already doing them proud.

It takes a lot for you to be different and still have a good spirit having dealt with the bad things. Must have been hard to deal with... he continued, alluding to the adventure they'd just had dealing with slavers.

They walked a little while longer while Giles contemplated the question. "What I'd tell people is that I want to make a difference, do good things but have an impact, you know? But as I reflect upon it now, I think I'm just doing the same - trying to live up to my parents' expectations and do them proud too.

Magnus perked up at Giles mention of his parents location.

"Your parents are in Kethalos?" He asked a little excitedly. "Mine just purchased an inn just north of Mehan?" He laughed "I say "just"...it's been a few years now I guess, but yeah, they are probably a few days from each other." he shook his huge head. "...small world." he chuckled.

A few moments later he continued the vein of their conversation. "Just how much of a difference are you talkin' about? I mean your out here, doin' the Lord's work. You've done more than most. Or are you thinkin' about doin' something really big?"

Giles cocked an eyebrow at his friend's origins "True? That is not far indeed. The other side of Kethalos to my family's holdings.

When I've finished my business around these parts, I was intending to venture home and visit my family. If you were headed that way, I'd love to take an ale at their place... he said with genuine intention.

Later that night, after Magnus and he had washed away the bitter taste of the slavers ordeal and that of Broskow's madness Giles intended to pen a letter to Brashear. He suspected that the noble, surrounded by his mercenaries and with a delusional view of the world and recent events would prove to be a thorn in the side of the fort. When coupled with ambition, poor judgement in companionship and perhaps unfathomable amounts of gold, this would be a recipe for disaster for Megalos too.

After the Wazifi had already attempted to push into Megalan territory, a gold mine so close to the border might give impetus to further incursions.

The most concerning thing for Giles, however, was the tilt in power towards questionable people.


"How big? I don't know, in admitting to myself that I do this in accordance to the exepctations of my father, and hopes of my mother, I feel that there could be no goal worthy enough. But, like your mother and father, I want something to call my own - and I wan't it to be enough that I can help more than pissing into the ocean. How that looks, I don't know" he added with good humour.