As Delia entered the room, she subtly drew the attention to herself. And she was quite the looker, almost statuesque. While Tyler was the leader, she had such a force of personality that she could command just as well and as easily, and only the respect she gave Tyler guaranteed his continued leadership of the Society. Not that he hadn’t earned it many times over. And she knew that a mage leading a group of mercenaries would strike fear into the hearts of many, especially in light of the recent destruction of the College of Djed and the activities of the Asylum inmates that imperiled both Tyler and Pulren and Zeltiva as a whole, mages were viewed in anything but a favorable light. So Delia was welcomed in the upper stratosphere of Zeltiva’s elite, but on sufferance. She knew that not only was Tyler worth following, but also that her continued growth as a mage was only possible through the resources at her command under the Martial Society. So, for now, unless something fundamental changed in the politics of Zeltiva, she would stay exactly where she was.
Tyler for his part was willing to cede the interview to Delia for the time being. As soon as Pulren’s attention slipped away from him to her, he slipped out the door, to make the preparations for the next phase of Pulren’s induction. After testing the man’s morals and magic, there was still much to be discovered about Pulren after his long time away and Tyler intended to drag every bit of information from the man as he could. And that meant once his magical potential had been explored and acknowledged, his physical prowess would be tested. It was good that Pulren had dressed for combat, since Tyler, though he was planning to use practice weapons, was definitely not planning on going easily on the hapless ex-Guardsman. He strode through the building to their armory, gearing himself up and selecting a wooden trident for Pulren, before continuing on to make sure their sparring room was prepared. As he walked, he acknowledged those members on duty or lounging about with a nod or a quiet word. They in turn saluted or nodded back as their nature called them, but always showed respect in their own way. There was obviously a difference in stature but also an easy camaraderie that only came from complete trust. These men would follow Tyler anywhere.
A passing aide had seen Delia enter the office and putting two and two together with the job interview had realized there was likely a mage in there. Magic, in the halls of The Martial Society was nothing new, but it was always a shock when a new mage arrived. Although Pulren hadn’t announced his abilities, Delia’s presence in Tyler’s office sparked a rumor about what this newcomer might know and what he might be. Whispers spread through the corridors and up and down the stairs, leaping from mercenary to mercenary. Though they weren’t gossiping, the members of the Martial Society, one and all, shared information that might save their lives one day. After all, mages were unpredictable and though Delia was good at winnowing out those who would endanger the company, it was always a risk. So when Pulren finally exited the room he might find some sidelong glances, full of either curiosity or distrust, coming his way.
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Leaning back in his chair, Tyler gave his own glass of wine a swirl before taking another sip. Pulren was nursing his goblet much more carefully than his last, which Tyler was pleased to see. Perhaps the captain had been reading too much into the situation earlier and the former Wave Guard had just needed a bit of alcohol in his system to steady his nerves. Soldiers and warriors often took a splash of strong liquor before running into battle for the same reason and though Tyler had never had an issue in speaking with others unless the situation was especially tense, he knew many who did. But it was always encouraging to see someone who could, with the proper training, fit into the upper stratosphere of Zeltivan society. Tyler could never get enough agents in high places and though sometimes it was useful to have a brute that no one would expect as a spy, it was equally important to have people on hand who could at least mimic impeccable manners. Though he detested the games he had to play, having grown up with them, Tyler knew the necessity of placing friends in high places, at least in his home city. Other cities were run differently, but they had their own problems and at least Tyler could navigate the murky Zeltivan waters, both the literal and the metaphorical ones. Bringing his attention back to the man before him, Tyler grinned at Pulren’s description of his bed. ”I know the feeling, and I think most of the people here do. After a long job where you can’t choose your lodgings, or a string of bad luck with no pay, or even worse, an outdoor march, coming home to a real, honest to gods and goddesses feather bed feels divine.” Grinning, lost in his own memories, Tyler, sipped his wine and remembered what it felt like to come home at the end of the day, especially after he’d left his father’s life.
However, when they swung back to that fateful night, the grin was wiped off his face. ”Nightmare is right,” Tyler agreed softly. Nothing about that night had gone according to plan and he was still kept up by the faces of his dead friends and those he’d been sworn to protect. Since then he’d been working hard to try and find magical ways to protect his people, but with little success. Short of employing more mages, artifacts to protect against arcane attacks were simply too rare and expensive. So he just had to work on keeping the threats contained as best he could.
At least Pulren seemed to recognize that his actions and words could be seen as innapropriate. While Tyler wasn’t entirely satisfied, he’d let it go for now. ”We’ll have to agree to disagree I’m afraid.” Tilting his head as he examined Pulren, Tyler contemplated how best to reply. ”As long as you don’t hero worship me, I think we’ll be fine. While I need the respect and the loyalty of my subordinates, I also need them to tel me when I’m being foolish and not just parrot my opinions. If that happens, you and I will ahve to have another chat.” Pausing to let his words sink in, Tyler decided that another word of warning was in order. ”And be careful when talking about the gods. Those who attract their attention rarely live long or happily, always pushed or pulled on an agenda not their own. They have glory but also restlessness and heartbreak. Just a friendly word of advice.” He laughed as he thought of his own marks, and how he’d acquired them. It certainly hadn’t been easy and though they were gifts he wouldn’t live without, he couldn’t in good conscience recommend them to anyone.
Scrutinizing Pulren for any dishonesty, Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he took in the story. First, he had to clarify his own statement though. ”I didn’t mean, how did you know a Knight would tell the truth, they’re a pretty honest lot. I meant, how did you know that someone wasn’t posing as a Knight to lure you into some scheme? How did he verify his membership?” Blind faith in anyone wasn’t a good trait to encourage and Tyler wanted Pulren thinking about his actions first and foremost. Drumming his fingers on the desk, Tyler frowned as he contemplated the tale. Something about it all bothered him but he couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. To buy himself some time, he asked about the return trip. ”Why did you all come running back here like something was chasing you? And where did the rest of your crew end up? It was a severe lack in his information network, actually. New players or pawns in Zeltiva should always been checked out, especially coming from the lawless city of Sunberth. However, that was only a momentary worry, since Tyler finally determined his source of anxiety. Speaking carefully, he asked the question he’d wanted to ask since this interview began. ”Pulren, who were you hiding from, other than yourself? People only took on new identities to get away from themselves and their pasts or to hopefully gain anonymity in their new life. Tyler needed to know what Pulren was trying to accomplish before hiring him could sit easily with him. However, at the end of his tirade, Pulren’s words seemed genuine and showed a willingness to work hard to get to where he wanted to be. Tyler nodded once, sharply, showing his acceptance. Although Pulren seemed to be saying what he thought Tyler wanted to hear, that didn’t mean it was wrong in any way. It would do, for now.
Seeing that Pulren’s attention was fully taken up, in more ways than one, by Delia’s entrance, Tyler chuckled under his breath and made his escape. ”Delia, I’ve got some paperwork to deal with. Do you mind...entertaining our guest?” Winking at her, knowing what conclusions Pulren might draw from his choice of words, Tyler eased his way out of the room carefully. Delia was focused on Pulren’s demonstration and waved a hand idly in acknowledgement. She wasn’t one for formality when it came to Tyler and they both knew it. She cocked her head as Pulren shaped the green mist and it solidified into a stone pillar. She took it gingerly and daintily and examined it from all sides. She leaned forward to expose her cleavage, trying to prevent coherent thoughts from forming in his head, before unexpectedly smashing it as hard as she could against Pulren’s now exposed arm. It cracked and she knew the blow would leave a bruise, but she needed to teach him something very important. ”First lesson. Vigilance. Just because there’s a friendly and pretty face nearby doesn’t mean there also isn’t danger. That’s the oldest trick in the book, and it will get you killed one day. I, and many of my colleagues, are beautiful and deadly.” She smiled sweetly at him, just to drive the point home. Taking the pillar up to her eyes, she noted the imperfections in it. ”Now, I’m guessing you’re inexperienced but this is just sloppy. She sniffed disdainfully. ”Tell me, can you produce Res from anywhere but your chest? If not, start practicing now. I want you to be able to create it any time, any where, under any circumstances. Next, are you capable of producing anything but Earth, any of the other elements or para-elements?” She could almost guess the answer based on what her Auristics was telling her but it was always nice to have a confirmation. She had a long way to go with this one. She sighed, thinking of the work it would be to train him. She knew some of the root cause of his problems, and figured addressing them right off would be the best course of action. She’d been through this many a time with reluctant mages. ”Now, magic is scary, but you have to remember it’s also just a tool. A weapon. Like a sword. Now, a sword in the wrong hands is terrifying but in the right hands can be used for good. It all depends on the man, or,” she laughed, ”the woman wielding it.” Pointing at him, using the pillar almost as a scepter, she went on. ”If a fighter carried a sword at his side, or any weapon for that matter, and didn’t know how to use it, what would you say? You’d think that was foolish. Now, why in the world would you cripple yourself in battle when you have something at your disposal that can and has turned the tides of war.” Leaning back, she slammed the stone onto the desk, hard enough to make a sound but not hard enough to damage it. ”So that’s why, if you join the society, you will practice, every day, until I’m satisfied. Managing to imply that she was expecting it to take a long time, she crossed her arms across her chest and nodded imperiously. ”Now, do it again. And this time, start from your palms.” She had very little time or patience for slow learners, so this, like everything else today, was a test. |