Once everyone has settled in to their seats, Driggs adresses the collective group.

"I hope that everyone has found their accomodations to be adequate. I'm sure for the likes of you all, being stuck here is a complete bore. However, you have my and Glen's, much less the Crown's gratitude. I'd like to propose a toast to you all. But before that, this collection of brave souls requires a name. Your unit is officially on paper called Special Task Force Number Nine, but for the nature of this mission, that wont do at all. How does the call sign "Eisenwölfe" sound? It means "the iron wolves" in Olde-Fildegarian. I'm open to suggestion though, so fire away if you have anything".

Shiaran giggles.  "Well Shadow Wolf in Olde Fildegarne sounds crude.  Perhaps Skia Lykos?  Reikaze?"  She shrugs, not caring one way or the other.

Sypher offers no suggestions.  He just listens and eats.

Beloc thinks a moment. "Back home, our defenders would often refer to themselves as 'sargti di wer thaczil'. It translates roughly to 'defenders of the realm'.

Shiaran makes a face at Beloc's suggestion, but quickly hides it with another large bite of food.

"How about the "Mithril Hounds"? What with sniffing out these fault lines, and mithril is both valuable and rare, much like the talent in this room".
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Sat 06 May 2017.

Sypher gently sets his utensils down in the appropriate place, wipes his face, and looks down the table.  "Gentlemen, you are in command.  Pick whatever designation you feel appropriate.  I had opportunity to speak to some of the soldiers in the mess hall earlier today.  It seems to me that people are dying while we sit here and eat this delicious meal on these pointlessly expensive dishes.  Perhaps it would be more useful to get to the details of our mission so that we have time to process it before sleep.  Then we can have the last good rest we are likely to get for some time and start fresh."  His voice does not raise and he shows neither anger, nor impatience.

Sypher remains polite and to the point, urging the men to things he believes more important without trying to give offense.  "I for one am ready to get to it.  Zoe esti de atmis."  The last seems to be a quote.

Sylas lets his brow furrow. His tone is calm. "What more would you like to know, Sypher? You've elected to travel by horse back, and Major Cairn is leading you to the first fault that he closed to give you all a feel for what you're looking for. From there, its through the Firewrym Clan Lands to either over the mountain or under them to Fildegarne City, where we think the next fault is. I understand that people are dying, son. And it doesn't entirely sit right sometimes to not have to be standing shoulder to shoulder with them, but that's war. And you'll get yours soon enough, you can count on that. This, tonight, is one last bit of comfort before you hit the road in the morning. You'll miss this within a week, I can guarantee you that".

Driggs, looking down at his plate, very quietly clears his throat. "Eisenwölfe it is, then"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Sat 06 May 2017.

R.E.B.O.R.T's voice echoes out across the dining hall as he repeats Drigg's last statement. "Eisenwölfe". As if bringing some sort of finality to the decision.

"Is it true that the Capitol has closed?Could...Eisenwolfe be useful at Reef Lake?"

"Yes, communications coming in and out of the capitol have ceased. We aren't sure why at the moment, because the PCA front line has managed to surge forward and push us back in critical areas. However, just like Reef Lake, that's a job for grunts. This isn't the first time we've seen the enemy forces surge forward. However, I and Sylas firmly believe that the discovery of the Spectral Faults is what's bolstering the enemy this round. That is why it's imperative they be closed off. That is why your team has been assembled. A large force pushing in on the fault lines will alert the enemy, and they'll triple their guard of sites. They'll be nigh impregnable areas. The need for quick and quiet maneuvers is at hand, which is precisely where you come in. By the time the PCA catches on to the wetwork you'll be performing, it will be too late for them. Even if you only manage half of the potential faults before they see the pattern, the damage will be done. This is as much a show of skill and arms as it is a morale crippling blow to the PCA. By our reckoning now, the sites will be well guarded, but they won't have a massive force there and draw attention. This is the chink in their armor, for now".

Sypher nods, satisfied with the answer, but concerned about the situation at the capitol and the lake just the same.

"I don't have any further questions other than when we should assemble in the morning?"

"What is our expected ETA to the first site?"

"We'll assemble everyone at the quarterdeck of the officer's barracks, bright and early. O' five hundred. From there, we'll take a short ride in a troop transport four hours north of here, where we'll then depart our armored transport and finish the five day trek via horseback. With any luck, we'll dodge any PCA along the way and be in the Argonette Forest without a hitch, and then on to Firewyrm Clan lands where we'll barter safe passage. I'll see to that leg of the trip personally though".

"Have the tensions between the Canopy Shapers and Firewyrm clan died down any in the last decade? I would hope a common enemy such as the PCA would be somewhat of a tie that binds."

"They have, and they haven't. We're still technically at odds with them, but the advent of war has made any issues between us and them trivial for the time. What I can say though, as that even the PCA don't dare tread on their lands. The Firewyrm Clan hasn't moved on in to our modern world. They still employ archers on horseback, they still use hit and run tactics, and they still hack their foes to pieces with axe and sword. The last PCA to be caught in the clan lands were all captured and executed via the "blood eagle" method. Though that's hardly dinner talk".

Beloc shudders. "A good enough reason to stay out of their lands for sure. Perhaps using the angle of a common threat will have good enough success in bartering safe passage."

Driggs raises his glass again. "Indeed. Now then, about that toas-". His sentence is cut short as the room shakes and rattles from a massive blast from somewhere outside of the building. Driggs drops his wine glass, spilling it over his plate. "Good Lord! What was that?!".

Sypher and Shiaran are instantly on their feet, alert and ready for battle.  Shiaran has two daggers in hand.

Beloc, unarmed and unprepared for battle, stands up and places himself between upper ranking officers.

R.E.B.O.R.T. swings a medium ranged rifle from off his right shoulder and quickly moves toward the door and peers out.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Sat 06 May 2017.

Outside of the door, in the regular officer's mess, many more people are also on their feet, between the officers dining, the enlisted bards, and the wait staff. Some looking genuinely inquisitive, others appearing on the defensive, peering around nervously. The talk in the next room is a dull roar.

R.E.B.O.R.T. glances back to the others. "Clear. No hostiles present."

"I'll stay in here with the Grand Admiral. This room is well protected. Kallium, take the team and figure out what's happening. If there's trouble, don't hang around. Mission first".

Kallium Cairn nods. "Aye sir. Rebort, take point". He looks around and see's Shiaran holding her daggers. "Shiaran, on Reborts tail. We'll follow on your flank. Get us to the barracks, I have a feeling we need our gear".