Duran awoke the next morning with a stomach full of stew. He was startled awake by Goma, his wolf, licking his face until he was fully aware of what was going on around him. The recruits were gathered outside in what could only be called a group; Calling it a line might have been generous. He got up off the ground, noting a lack of people in the inn through the window, which made perfect sense in hindsight. He hurried over to the group with Goma just in time to hear Captain Wrath start screaming at the recruits.
"Alright soldiers! Form up!"
Duran took a once over of the Captain. He was formally dressed, to say the least. He was slightly jealous of the Captain's leather armor, being unable to wear metal armor of any kind, until he saw that there was an entire cart full of it.
Duran's eyes lit up. It was safe to say he was drooling.
"You've got ten minutes to get suited up!"
He immediately jumped on the cart and began ripping through it for a fine set of leather armor, one for him, and one for Goma; It did change shape to fit its wearer, after all. Goma began to scratch at it, in an attempt to get it off, but Duran thumped her on the head, to which she let loose a grunt of annoyance.
After putting on the armor, Duran then began to look through the weapons on the cart. Though he couldn't wear metal armor, there was no such restrictions on weapons, giving him a larger selection. While he had a quarterstaff, Duran had a feeling it would not be a very effective weapon to permanently dispatch enemies. He picked up a scimitar, giving it a few practice swings, and twirling it around elegantly. He sheathed it at his side, and continued browsing, eventually picking up a wooden shield, a shortspear, and a piece of leather that appeared to be a sling.
Duran once again took his position when he was done arming himself, awaiting further information. Sid began to speak about their enemy, The Children of Fire. He was quite familiar with them. Indeed, his Order had to fight them on several occasions when their home in the Vastwood was burned to the ground. They had been lucky to know their home better than The Children, and the rangers and druids of The Order were able to kill them with skirmish tactics, although it took a hell of a lot to down them. He remembered one in particular chasing after him with at least six arrows sticking out of his back and chest, and another that somehow survived a lightning strike called down from the heavens by one of the more powerful druids of The Order.
Fighting The Children head-on would likely be suicide if the front lines couldn't survive their fire breath. Hopefully, they wouldn't resort to running straight into their deaths.
"Move out!" Commander Wrath yelled.
Duran put the hood of his shroud up, and wrapped it around his body to partially conceal his arms and armor. Goma let loose a whimper, and Duran looked down at her worried eyes. He patted her on the head.
"It's okay girl. We'll all be okay. Just remember to smell for the scent of ashes."
"Alright soldiers! Form up!"
Duran took a once over of the Captain. He was formally dressed, to say the least. He was slightly jealous of the Captain's leather armor, being unable to wear metal armor of any kind, until he saw that there was an entire cart full of it.
Duran's eyes lit up. It was safe to say he was drooling.
"You've got ten minutes to get suited up!"
He immediately jumped on the cart and began ripping through it for a fine set of leather armor, one for him, and one for Goma; It did change shape to fit its wearer, after all. Goma began to scratch at it, in an attempt to get it off, but Duran thumped her on the head, to which she let loose a grunt of annoyance.
After putting on the armor, Duran then began to look through the weapons on the cart. Though he couldn't wear metal armor, there was no such restrictions on weapons, giving him a larger selection. While he had a quarterstaff, Duran had a feeling it would not be a very effective weapon to permanently dispatch enemies. He picked up a scimitar, giving it a few practice swings, and twirling it around elegantly. He sheathed it at his side, and continued browsing, eventually picking up a wooden shield, a shortspear, and a piece of leather that appeared to be a sling.
Duran once again took his position when he was done arming himself, awaiting further information. Sid began to speak about their enemy, The Children of Fire. He was quite familiar with them. Indeed, his Order had to fight them on several occasions when their home in the Vastwood was burned to the ground. They had been lucky to know their home better than The Children, and the rangers and druids of The Order were able to kill them with skirmish tactics, although it took a hell of a lot to down them. He remembered one in particular chasing after him with at least six arrows sticking out of his back and chest, and another that somehow survived a lightning strike called down from the heavens by one of the more powerful druids of The Order.
Fighting The Children head-on would likely be suicide if the front lines couldn't survive their fire breath. Hopefully, they wouldn't resort to running straight into their deaths.
"Move out!" Commander Wrath yelled.
Duran put the hood of his shroud up, and wrapped it around his body to partially conceal his arms and armor. Goma let loose a whimper, and Duran looked down at her worried eyes. He patted her on the head.
"It's okay girl. We'll all be okay. Just remember to smell for the scent of ashes."