Odran paced around the interior of the Captain's tent, his permanently furrowed brow more furrowed than usual. Here they were, a stone's throw away from Orvston- a mere 200 some-odd fighters tasked with investigating some strange happenings or other further up north, the superstitious kind that Odran was loathe to believe in. Moving north was difficult, getting past Orvston was another issue entirely, it was highly unlikely the fortress would be willing to let the Company just march on through, especially in these times of war. The logistics behind such a task was already hell as it was already- they had lost the majority of their non-combative support members lost defending the late King Van of the northern kingdoms, and they had not recruited nearly enough replacements in their trek down south and back up north again- none of the Imperials seemed to want to leave their cushy lives for a career with a bunch of blackguards, and few northmen would be willing to join a campaign against their own people. 

Typically, Odran would be out and about, roaming the encampment, making sure that all the jobs were being done, and the men were properly preparing themselves for the coming battle. Setting up wooden walls to deter enemy scouts and cavalry, sentry posts to watch over the camp and its perimeter, as well as the distribution of food and supplies for the men. Now that they were a mere quarter of their number, such a task was rather easy, and Odran had delegated the task to several of his sergeants- older veterans of the company that went around enforcing his will and ensuring the troops in the company were up to snuff. 

This meant that Odran had time to sit with the Captain in his tent and groan over the Captain's next greatest battle plan. To be completely honest, Odran wasn't too surprised when the Captain started discussing his plans, the Captain's career was built on a series of unorthodox, yet successful maneuvers, and even in his heightened age, Odran was still learning tricks from the old man. Still, with his mind grounded with the reality of the state and capabilities with most of their troops- as well as his somewhat pessimistic outlook on things, Odran always had misgivings about the Captain's plans. 

"I know I always say this my old friend, but this time, I'm almost certain you're going to get the lot of us killed." Odran sighed as he continued pacing around the tent. 

Not long ago, the Captain dispatched a runner- the young orphan girl they had picked up along the border, to deliver messages to several individual members of the Company. Odran hated to admit it, but he had taken a liking to the young orphan, she was timid and mousey, and refused to speak to almost anyone, other than the Captain of course, but her eyes sparkled with some sort of incredible intelligence. Perhaps when she was older, he'd send her to Osric the Mage, to see if she had any magical potential about her. 

It was the people in particular that the Captain wished to bring for his plan that had Odran worried. Odran held dossiers for them in his hands, but had no need of them to know who these particular individuals were. Each of them was known in the Company for something or other. There was Gideon the monster hunter who was reliable with a blade, and for the most part kept his head down and under Odran's radar. Kuro, was a sort of jack-of-all-trades, preferring to stick out of sight, but handy in almost any situation. Kuro did have the tendency of shooting before analyzing with those damned crossbows of his, but sometimes it was best to diffuse a potential situation before it could even begin. Odran had no problem with these two.

It was the recruitment of Connor [i]and[/i] Triala that had Odran worried. The Cub had only been with them for 10 months and he was already causing more trouble than many of their regular members- his constant pranks and childishness had earned him countless disciplinary actions, to the point where Odran had to devote a single man of his small team of sergeants for purely disciplining the Connor in particular. The sheer amount of disciplinary action seemed to have bounced right off the man, and Odran had been coming up with an alternative way to punish him. 

Then there was Triala- she was as hot headed as the red hair on her head. She was without a doubt an incredibly talented mage- Osric himself believed that she would someday succeed him- no small compliment from a man like Osric. The problem was she had difficulty keeping her temper in check- she had set nearly half the camp ablaze once- all because Conner had been antagonizing her. On the one hand, Odran sympathized with the elf- if he had her magical prowess, he too probably would've burned the camp down by now, but on the other hand, her hot headedness often times overrode any sense of discipline she possessed and made her a danger to herself as well as the rest of the Company- Which Odran did not tolerate. 

The others were of little note to him, there was the archer elf they had picked up a month back. She had a bad attitude and lacked respect for anyone that was human it seemed, but that was typical for new recruits, and more likely than not she'd straighten up. Either that or she'd desert and prove Odran right, or just die like the rest of the newcomers that thought they were too good for the rest of the Company on their first battle. Whether they liked it or not- the Company fought as a unit, and if your squad didn't have your back, you'd probably end up with an arrow in it. No matter how powerful a man or woman thought they were, no one was a one man army.

Well, no one but perhaps the elf Kaerun. Few elves lived as long as he did- and Odran had yet to see anyone come close to defeating the elf in single combat.