Reignald put the letter down on the desk of his small room at the Inn after he was done reading it, a small candle flickering. He had received the ltter from the oldman, via courier, very early in the morning. His ol military customs had not left him, and he was up before sunrise. A habit that since he came home, he had been looking to get rid off, but, at least now turned out of some use. 

“Captain, eh?”

He smiled a bit. This was not going to be an easy task. The group was a bit too heterogeneous from a military standpoint. They all had very strong tempers. And Fiers was vice captain. Reignald couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride. Maybe that is what the bard needed. A bit of responsibility, to set him straight. And if not, now that he was officially a commander officer again, he could apply some “disciplinary measures”. With a bit of training, he could turn the roudiest man into a soldier, and he hoped to do that on Fiers. Hell, given the time, he hoped to turn the whole squad into the most efficient in the Company. 

He stood p from the desk and walked towards his crate at the foot of the bed. If he was to make it to the docks, he had to start getting ready. Piece by piece, he assembled his armor upon his body, a ritual he had done a million times before.  The cold steel never failed to wake him up. Was it the chilling touch against his skin? Or perhaps something else? He fastened the hilt of his sword against his waist, and he pulled out “Lullaby” from its sheath. Another military habit, he had been taught to always inspect his sword first before heading into battle. If there were any imperfections, he could catch them before they were allowed to cause problems in the battlefield. Lullaby was in good condition. No chips or dents, just a few scracthes. Reignald lookd at his reflection on its blade. It was getting old, and so was he. He looked away from his reflection. Those eyes. He had never liked those eyes. He sheathed it back and headed out the door with heavy, armored steps.


The saline air and the ocean breeze, the clamoring of sailors as they loaded ship and the cries of seagulls. It had been a while since he had been to port. And years since he had even set foot on a ship. He muttered a quick prayer under his breath. In his youth he had been prone to seasickness, and since age was not doing him any favors… He would go to Elsie for that later.

R’ornn and Fiers were already at the docks. Reignald let out a sigh. Yes, of course Fiers was already there. Who else could be responsible of the panicked lady that just ran past him, begging him to protect her from the pirates. This was going to be a long day.
[color=aba000]
"Now, where's the person in charge of this venture? So I can go give him a firm boot in the arse for allowing mayhem and chaos to spread through the ranks?"[/color]

Reignald put an ironclad hand on the bards shoulder, standing behind him.

[color=a36209]“That would be me.”[/color] He answered in a stern voice.