"We should gather our things. Meet in the practice yard in the hour."
Feyson nods to his companions then turns and walks towards his tent. He walks into the ordered camp of his men. He nods to several of his men until he spots Silas his Lieutenant and commander of the Peltasts.
"Silas my friend, we have picked a new contract. We will be testing our might agains Patroklos." Feyson looks at the encampment. "Gather the men we have a scouting mission. There is a fort that we must take. We need to scout its defenses and surrounding lands. We are to meet in the practice hard in an hour."
He claps his friend on the shoulder and grins.
"Tell Marius to begin drilling the spearman. Not to hard but enough to keep them ready. If there is trouble have them look to Theo and support his Hoplites. If he has questions have him find me. Then locate Garret. He's probably gambling in he mess tent. Have him coordinate with the other captains to setup a patrol. Patroklos tried to hire us as well and he will not be happy when he finds we rejected him. He might take it personal and attempt to take vengeance. We don't want to be surprised."
He nods to his second.
"Now go I need to gather my things and you have orders to carry out. We head to the meeting in half hour."
Silas, for his part, was eager to hear the news. A new contract meant money, money meant food and more, and that kept the troops happy. Mercenaries were simple creatures, he had found in over five years of service: so long as they received their silver, they would march to the ends of the West and whatever lay beyond that.
" Marius'll be happy, sir. He's been mouthing off about besting Nicco for quite some time now," he chortled,
" Having those two engage in their little, friendly rivalry oughta keep the troops sharp for when it comes time to taking this Fort."
For Feyson's part, Silas thought his instruction wise: Patroklos was
not the type of General who took an insult laying down, and the Senior Skirmisher had no doubt in his mind that the man might have a bout of madness and send everything he had to crush the Wolves for such "insolence". In truth, Silas was rather nervous that they had turned down such an offer: Patroklos paid, and paid
well. He was powerful in the East, and a right bastard on top of all of that. This wasn't the sort of enemy the Wolves needed, but Silas also knew that the Captains would lay down their lives for each and every one of them before they let a bad decision ruin the company.
" I'll make sure we're all sharp, Cap'n," Silas assured his long-time friend, the man who had sought him out to join The Iron Wolves in the first place.
" Even Garret, if such a thing were possible. It'd be like trying to make a mace that could chop a tree, but I'll find a way," he laughed, giving a salute and moving off to carry out his instructions.
Marius, for his part, had reacted exactly as Silas had predicted: ready and willing for battle to be joined, and the senior Lieutenant had to remind the man that Feyson's orders were strictly to be
ready, not go rushing off to besiege this fort on their own. Garret took a little longer with convincing - He had been involved in trying to win back a small debt he had incurred with one of the Sagitarii, and, from the swearing Silas heard when he entered the tent, it seemed he had not been successful in outwitting the Elven maiden yet again. Bitter over the setback, Garret was all too happy to drop his dice game and prepare a patrol around their camp to join Lieutenant Hermias and his men in doing the same.
All around, the camp was becoming more lively as the news spread to every unit: A fort to be taken. Gold and glory to be won. A new patron, and a new war.
The Wolf began to growl, for it sensed the hunt was closing in.