(Various Praelium Soldiers, Gloria, Outskirts of Praelium)

The Orc laughed at the soldier's requested, making fun of their demands to restrain him. However, his laughter was not without reasoning. The ropes that they would provide would be merely for show, a symbolic restraint rather than an actual one. The orc still held his hands out, and the soldiers approached the Orc, quickly tying his hands. The group quickly surrounded the Orc, swords drawn and ready to strike at a moments notice. Another thirty some soldiers poured out of Fort Gloria and did the same to the other Orc. The captain of the first squad stood in front of the behemoth of the creature, but like that creature he also showed no sign of fear.

"I'm surprised anyone from the northern desert can write," The captain said, voice stone cold. "Let alone ask for peace. We don't see many orcs from the north, so what are you? Passerbys? A minority from a smaller tribe?"

The captain looked at the Orc for a second, studying his armor. He scratched his chin and shook his head.

"No. Your armor has too much refinement to be from any I've encountered here before. Perhaps there are civilized groups among the desert tribes." The captain nodded, reaffirmed by listening to himself talk. "Right. So, you've demonstrated that you're not just out for blood. And that note even suggest you wish to engage with politics instead of warfare. Out with it, then." 

The captain stared the Orc in his eyes, keeping his chest out and head held high. Whilst his demeanor in the beginning was antagonizing, it slowly shifted to a semi-professional tone, although it was still condescending.

[hr]

(Jameson Telluth(Insignificant), Sergeant Officer of Praelium, Inside the Fort of Paline, Praelium)

[i]Ah, this day is finally coming to a close...[/i] The veteran was relaxed and on his way to the mess hall. Today was quite eventful, after he found that strong Holden character he found a small group of outsiders within Paline's walls. These were not as friendly as Holden, and he ended up having to engage in combat, killing them swiftly. They were clearly scouts, Jameson could not tell from where, but they did not look Benaduzian.

[i]Not my job...[/i] The veteran was at the tail end of his service, and simply wanted to retire now. Although he was still in his prime, his body began to ache more at night and wounds didn't seem to heal quite as fast. He was simply tired, but he was ok with that. He did not blame Praelium, he more so blamed the curse of mortality and the strain that war puts on an individual.

"Sir! Sir!" A voice called and Jameson turned, it was the newest recruit to his platoon.

"Yes soldier?" Jameson asked, clearly not in the mood for whatever antics was in store for him.

"Holden wishes to spar with you, sir." The wiry one said. "He also requests for his knife back."

Jameson's heart began to pump. A duel? It had been ages since he fought a worthy opponent, and that Holden seemed like the type. Jameson felt revitilzed, as if he was back to when he was posted at Gloria. He smiled, something he hadn't done in awhile. 

"Sir?" Jameson has been day dreaming and lost track of time, but he quickly snapped back into it.

"Ah, yes of course." Jameson said, shoving the boy out of his way. "I'll tell him myself. Thanks, Private Tuckett. You can have the rest of the day off."

"Thank you sir!" Tuckett responded, smiling and heading towards the mess hall. Halfway to the door though, he paused, and turned around. He had to see this newcomer fight. His skill in the training grounds was masterful, and he wished to see that talent in full action.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about fifteen minutes or so from Holden sending the wiry guard after the Sergeant, Jameson appeared with two short swords in hand and a backpack slung across his back. He was moving quickly, and not too far behind him was Tuckett.

"Holden!" Jameson bellowed, his personality quite different from their first encounter. "Terribly sorry about your knife. It's been one hell of a day."

Jameson sheathed his swords and opened his back pack, handing Holden a leather pouch embroidered on it was the flag of Praelium. 

"Claudius gave me the pouch to give to you, your knife is inside." Jameson said. "Consider it a token of thanks. Use it as a coin purse, or however you please."

Jameson tossed the backpack that was previously holding the leather pouch to the side and drew his sword with his free hand.

"Now, Tuckett told me something about a sparring match?" Jameson grinned, eager for his response.