fellowknight
The Devil In The Details
Barnan slightly tensed up when Ulfric shifted his attention from Marek. Here we go... He thought, as the 'High King' spoke. "I've heard tales of you Barnan. I have heard of you are hunted by your own order and yet you evade them at every turn, as well as the elves. Such resourcefulness is hard to come by. Know however that you are no mer. Bretons are more human than elf and many see themselves as men. I called many friends during the Great War. Every member of your people has a choice of which of their ancestors to follow and you Barnan have made the right choice, the honorable choice." This left Barnan with only a few seconds o give a slack-jawed gaze at the man. How the hell does he know about.... Barnan thought, before he quickly answered himself. Ulfric was the High King of Skyrim. There was little about the people in Skyrim he didn't know. Suddenly, Galmar's voice invaded his thoughts.
"As honorable as you can get for a Breton prissy." Galmar interjected. "Understand Barnan, I don't consider you an enemy solely on your race, but your people have a...less than honorable history. I hope you can prove to be an exception." Barnan looked sharply at Galmer with a gaze as sharp as steel. Oh i will, Galmar.... He thought as the commander moved on and, of course, insulted the rest of the squad. But to the naked, normal eye that's what itlooked like. What Galmar was really doing was testing them. Testing their emotional strengths and weaknesses. Their tongues and attitudes. He was testing them to find out any traitors, betrayers, or anything of the sort. And while he was doing this, he was also studying them. Sizing them up. Seeing if they were truly ready for combat and hard, bloody battle. That or he really was the blunt, mouse-brained, half-wit people saw him as. But that was something Barnan strongly doubted.
The commander finished up with his 'studying' as Ulfric called him back. Then he spoke to the whole squad in general. "I recognize you all as true sons and daughters of Skyrim. Be proud of your mission, for you have been selected to be our vanguard into the Empire and onward to the Dominion itself! You will train like Imperial Legionnaires, eat their food, wear their armor, fight as they do. You will know all their tactics and strategies so that when the time for battle comes, all their advantages will be taken from them! Then their Empire will answer for its crimes and the crimes of their witch elf puppet masters! Today is your first test, a trial by fire. Bring honor to your king and your people and fight for the glory of Skyrim! Simus! Lead the way!" He finished, shortly before Simus shouted orders.
"Guards! Open the gates! Squad, form a line and move out! Alice, run like the wind!" As soon as the gates opened, Alice shot through them and ran like a deer down the hill leading to the second gate. She was heading straight toward the now open outer gate in the direction of Fort Greymoor. "Catch up with my daughter and keep up with her until we reach the fort three miles away! Anyone who flags or falls behind takes care of all our chamber pots for the next week! Go! Go!"
As the squad moved out, running only like trained individuals could, Barnan broke not into a run, but a walk. A slow, steady stroll, letting all the other squad members pass him. He was taught, from his violent past, to conserve his stamina. First you walk, then you jog, then you run. He moved steadily out of the gates, passing Ulfric on the way, whom was looking over the squad members intensely and conversing with Galmar. As he passed the so-called-king and his aggressive companion, he gave them a small, simple nod, with a smirk of course. Oh don't worry, we'll be seeing each other very soon... He thought.
Then he broke into a jog. By now, Soldin and Dabiene were high ahead of him, with Simus Barking and ordering him to get a move on. By the time he was caught up with Dabiene and Soldin, Fort Greymoor was within sight. He closed in with a strong run, passing Dabiene and Soldin, and stopping with the others that were ahead of them and resting. Barnan was fairly tired form the sprint, but was combat-ready none the less. He wouldn't be able to fight as swiftly as he usually would be able to, considering it's weight and combined mass. No wonder why he fell behind. He could just 'suck it up' and fight with it anyways. Or..... He thought, as he reached up and unstrapped the chest piece, catching it before it hit the ground. He didn't want any unwanted attention. Not yet anyway. He then took off his gauntlets and laid them in the grass and retrieved his weapons, before looking around at the others.
Everyone was fairly distracted. Alice was talking with the vampire, Aliah. Simus was further back, dealing with a stray follower. Dabiene and Soldin seemed to be engaged in deep conversation. Marek and...Padfoot was it? Were conversing, likely about the fort and how the squad should proceed. Barnan could tell Marek was a hard-ass most of the time; a blind beggar could see that. But he wasn't afraid to take charge, apparently, and was at what looked like an impass with the Bosmer. Barnan seized the chance to fill in the gaps. He'd heard their conversation from afar and knew what each of them had planned. He silently walked over, dropped into a crouch and listened. No. He didn't have a plan. He, instead planning, would see how others planned and preformed, before showing his own skill and knowledge of combat and planning. Got to start somewhere.... He thought, as Marek turned back to speak.
"As honorable as you can get for a Breton prissy." Galmar interjected. "Understand Barnan, I don't consider you an enemy solely on your race, but your people have a...less than honorable history. I hope you can prove to be an exception." Barnan looked sharply at Galmer with a gaze as sharp as steel. Oh i will, Galmar.... He thought as the commander moved on and, of course, insulted the rest of the squad. But to the naked, normal eye that's what itlooked like. What Galmar was really doing was testing them. Testing their emotional strengths and weaknesses. Their tongues and attitudes. He was testing them to find out any traitors, betrayers, or anything of the sort. And while he was doing this, he was also studying them. Sizing them up. Seeing if they were truly ready for combat and hard, bloody battle. That or he really was the blunt, mouse-brained, half-wit people saw him as. But that was something Barnan strongly doubted.
The commander finished up with his 'studying' as Ulfric called him back. Then he spoke to the whole squad in general. "I recognize you all as true sons and daughters of Skyrim. Be proud of your mission, for you have been selected to be our vanguard into the Empire and onward to the Dominion itself! You will train like Imperial Legionnaires, eat their food, wear their armor, fight as they do. You will know all their tactics and strategies so that when the time for battle comes, all their advantages will be taken from them! Then their Empire will answer for its crimes and the crimes of their witch elf puppet masters! Today is your first test, a trial by fire. Bring honor to your king and your people and fight for the glory of Skyrim! Simus! Lead the way!" He finished, shortly before Simus shouted orders.
"Guards! Open the gates! Squad, form a line and move out! Alice, run like the wind!" As soon as the gates opened, Alice shot through them and ran like a deer down the hill leading to the second gate. She was heading straight toward the now open outer gate in the direction of Fort Greymoor. "Catch up with my daughter and keep up with her until we reach the fort three miles away! Anyone who flags or falls behind takes care of all our chamber pots for the next week! Go! Go!"
As the squad moved out, running only like trained individuals could, Barnan broke not into a run, but a walk. A slow, steady stroll, letting all the other squad members pass him. He was taught, from his violent past, to conserve his stamina. First you walk, then you jog, then you run. He moved steadily out of the gates, passing Ulfric on the way, whom was looking over the squad members intensely and conversing with Galmar. As he passed the so-called-king and his aggressive companion, he gave them a small, simple nod, with a smirk of course. Oh don't worry, we'll be seeing each other very soon... He thought.
Then he broke into a jog. By now, Soldin and Dabiene were high ahead of him, with Simus Barking and ordering him to get a move on. By the time he was caught up with Dabiene and Soldin, Fort Greymoor was within sight. He closed in with a strong run, passing Dabiene and Soldin, and stopping with the others that were ahead of them and resting. Barnan was fairly tired form the sprint, but was combat-ready none the less. He wouldn't be able to fight as swiftly as he usually would be able to, considering it's weight and combined mass. No wonder why he fell behind. He could just 'suck it up' and fight with it anyways. Or..... He thought, as he reached up and unstrapped the chest piece, catching it before it hit the ground. He didn't want any unwanted attention. Not yet anyway. He then took off his gauntlets and laid them in the grass and retrieved his weapons, before looking around at the others.
Everyone was fairly distracted. Alice was talking with the vampire, Aliah. Simus was further back, dealing with a stray follower. Dabiene and Soldin seemed to be engaged in deep conversation. Marek and...Padfoot was it? Were conversing, likely about the fort and how the squad should proceed. Barnan could tell Marek was a hard-ass most of the time; a blind beggar could see that. But he wasn't afraid to take charge, apparently, and was at what looked like an impass with the Bosmer. Barnan seized the chance to fill in the gaps. He'd heard their conversation from afar and knew what each of them had planned. He silently walked over, dropped into a crouch and listened. No. He didn't have a plan. He, instead planning, would see how others planned and preformed, before showing his own skill and knowledge of combat and planning. Got to start somewhere.... He thought, as Marek turned back to speak.