[center][h2][b]Baldric Durant[/b][/h2][/center] The ground, damp from morning dew; a slight misty fog blanketed the field. A morning chill enveloped the camp like a dark omen. Everyone felt it. Baldric Durant sat up from his resting spot on the ground. He shook his arms, as if he were shaking the tightness out, yawning wide. It seemed the older he got the harder it was to sleep on damp soil, waking up to make water in the tree line at least once during the night. He recalled hearing the Captain moaning and groaning, taken ill by the Flux. Baldric felt bad for the old man. He hoped he would come back from this. Most men rebound, but it still needed to run its course. Baldric loved the man. He had given him a break when he joined the Company of Fortune. Baldy, as he was called by those closest to him, his brothers, bound in a shared misery committed himself in the knowledge he would fight for any of them and die if need be. Loyalty was a quality the middle aged north man placed a high value upon. He held it for those he served and felt it for those who served with him. Loyalty and respect were both two-way streets. Wearing his gambeson, breeches and boots, Baldric stumbled to Lem’s tent. He wanted to check on how the Captain was doing. By the time he got there, he found Lem emerging from the Captain’s tent. By the expression on his face, it did not look well. After a silent exchange of looks, the Leftenant called for a meeting. Baldric returned to the tents his mates were sleeping in to rouse them. He gathered his Sellswords up, five in all and herded them over to the wagon Leftenant Arronson stood atop. Durant’s Lance gathered around as the Leftenant began to speak. Several others in the company gathered around as Lem began. [i]"Alright you lot, listen up! I have some grave news for us all. As some of you may have already heard, our captain is dead. He went last night, quietly, in his sleep."[/i] Baldy wasn’t exactly surprised by the Leftenant’s words. He knew a man ran a chance of dying once Flux took hold. He had prayed, the Captain would survive, but he also knew the old man, didn’t go quietly. He heard him at high moon when he was making water in the trees. It had been a noisy death. But sure, let the man have his say. It doesn’t matter. [i]‘The fucker’s dead,’[/i] he thought to himself. The death of the Captain bothered Baldric terribly. [i]‘He popped his clogs,’[/i] Baldy thought to himself, an expression found in Ragmark, one he grew up hearing from time to time. After the Leftenant finished, he motioned for the soldiers to follow him back to their spot. None of the men were happy about the news. They were quiet, contemplating the Captain's fate. They knew a new Captain would be elected. Most were all siding with Leftenant Arronson. He was naturally, next in line of succession to take the Captain’s job. “What scran do we ha’ to break our fast wit?” Podrik Webster asked. “We ha’ dem rabbits we culd roast,” Craig MacDonald stated matter of fact. "Howay, man, hinny, I said I was clamming!" Craig was very hungry. “Aye, roast the rabbits,” Baldric commanded as they arrived. “We ken gather s’more later.” The soldiers of the lance skinned the small animals, preparing them for a skewer. “I need to go see the Smithy,” Baldy addressed Craig and Podrik preparing the meal. “I’ll be ‘ight back.” He walked past several tents hearing the noise of a hammer striking steel… [i]Bang[/i] [i]Bang[/i] [i]Bang[/i] He walked past the old Baird, MacShana, overhearing someone comment on his pipes, [i]“I keep telling you, you're not the bard of this Band, you’re not even really a musician, so please stop making my ears bleed with your damnable wailing sack of moans!”[/i] Appreciating the sweet sound of the pipes, Baldy could not help himself. “Ney a listen to this lout, Brádach. Ye keep on a playin’ me lovey.” He smiled at Mr. MacShana hearing the sounds of the hammer getting louder. [i]Bang[/i] [i]Bang[/i] [i]Bang[/i] Finally, he reached the anvil and forge. “Aye, Yorkie?” Baldy asked his friend, “Ye finish wid me spaulders ey?” The man motioned to their location. “Thanks, mate,” Baldric picked them up and fitted them over his shoulders. “Ye do fine work, sir,” Baldy smiled at Wulfric, then flipped him a coin. “Fer yer troubles.” Baldric took his new spaulders in hand and made his way back to the lance to break his fast. “Dem rabbits mus’ be ready by now.” [@WestWall][@Jbcool]