"Soooo... Rockman, we never did finish our conversation back in the waiting room," Anim said, still feeling talkative. "You and I would do well to stick together." He added in a strange voice. "After all, who trusts those... organisms

When the lady approached, beguiled in her assumed authority and wiles, Dagan had assumed her to be a spectator, a participant in the passing crowd intent on watching a werewolf get its due. When she stated her intention for his release, he accepted the event as a small favor.

Righting himself as the whip marks on his body began to fade, Dagan walked over to the small weapons cache, a pile by any other name, and retrieved his personalized spears. At the start he had been performing mundane exercises, before it had been deemed necessary that, in order to simulate the many blows he was sure to encounter on the battlefield, a steady stream of whip cracks be administered. He didn't much mind, the fear of small mundane weapons replaced a few years ago. He did however wish it was more forgiving to his clothing.

Once he had caught up to his benefactor he broached the subject. "I don't want to spoil a grand joke by the general, but I am a werewolf." Dagan was not sure if his condition was overtly known, but he did not want the woman who spared him the training session to have a nasty shock on the battlefield.

"Yes. You are a werewolf." She nodded back with the previous commanding tone, sighing gingerly. As Dagan approaches, she leans closer, whispering... "We can't talk now. Someone... Someone might be listening." She winked at Freeny, upon this revelation that she had a master plan.

Righting herself, coughing once, and returning to her previous demenour, she continued, "Alright then, you two! Let's go. We've got one other person to retrieve."

And thus, Asidhara's slowly growing retinue made it's way to Paladin Aetheor, where she would give him the general's ultimatum. Join her squad, or be imprisoned for treason.

(Sorry if I make any bad assumptions. Feel free to correct me.)

"You monsters will be killed before the rest of us on the battlefield." Tharex shouted over to the small group that was still there trying to remain its role under guise. "Its just as well, we don't need any more of your kind in this army." As it planned, Tharex would try to rile up those it intended to slaughter. Whether or not they knew where the amulet now meant nothing. The thrill of the kill was at hand.

Vlad again woke up to the sound of knocking.

"Uhm, Master Gram, perchance have you seen Lady Cheryl recently?" The same old butler nervously asked through the doors.

"Go away." Vlad's simple command sent the butler scurrying away.

Again, Vlad rose from his bed and pulled back the curtains. Behind him, Lady Cheryl rolled over in the bed to turn away from the light. Vlad had intended to go inspect the troops, but then Cheryl Claude just happened to pass by him and ask him how his day was going. The young, beautiful, precious only daughter of the rich noble family Vlad was manipulating, who happened to be wearing a pure white dress at the time. She just looked so... tasty, Vlad had to have an early afternoon snack. Then the lady pulled on the sheets to cover herself, forcing the maid from this morning to draw closer to her. Leftovers.

Quickly, Vlad dressed himself and left the manor, since he did want to see how the ogre situation may turn out.

"Indeed, we should, you can never be too careful around people." Torind rubbed his chin for a moment. "It makes you wonder though. Why would the general send us into the front lines...? It is the most dangerous place on the battlefield. One would normally put fodder there, not the elite units we're supposed to be..."

Torind looked at the Xodar for a long moment, appraising his worth. "It's all a moot point in any case; the front lines are exactly where I want to go. After all-" He gave him a jagged grin. "If someone disappears after an attack on the gates, no one is going to investigate too thoroughly. I'm not going to stay in this abomination of a place longer then I must..."

Torind stared at the Xodar again, trying to gauge his reaction. Somewhere in the back of his head, he could hear a voice telling him to stop talking.

"What about you then?" Torind asked him cheerfully. "Are you also looking for a quick escape?"

Anim laughed (or made to that effect) “They want to put us on the frontline because, to be quite frank, we are expendable,” he said to the Rock creature. “Have a look at our little group, do you see anyone of importance? No. Not even our ‘glorious leader’ has any ties to the city, despite her upper class looks.”

He gazed at the Rockman. “What we should do, my friend, is as soon as the we meet the Ogre horde and throw in a few good kills we should get the hell out of there. That way we get a nice bit of practice and leave this place without them shoving us into the nearest dungeon for deserting. They wouldn’t care to much if a bunch of nonhumans disappeared without a trace.”

Anim finished. “So what’s your name Rockman?”

Fury. Righteous rage. It brewed inside of Aetheor's mind, bubbling and boiling around the image of the General. Such an insufferable man should not be allowed such a prestigious position. Despite his harsh, internal feelings, Aetheor's facial expression had not changed; his orders to wait in the barracks were taken with a quiet nod and quick salute.

Now, the zealot sat in the far back corner of the room, on his knees and facing the wall. His head was bowed, and he was intently praying; praying for glory in battle, praying for victory, praying for guidance. He did not worry about where he would end up; wherever the battle took him was simply the will of Heaven; it was something he could not change.

Despite his relative calm, he was still very angry at the General's decision; he prayed he would not be stuck with inhuman filth at his side.

"Inquisitor Aetheor, is it?" Asidhara approached the paladin from behind, which... admittantly wasn't very difficult. He was praying, after all. "I've been instructed by General Astidus to give you his ultimatum. I trust however, that you've already heard it."

She nodded sympathetically at this, "We've been given a suicide mission, for obvious reasons. Though... I have some concerns I'd like to discuss with you regarding this. Particularly, in regard to your feelings toward the general's assignment."

"So that is how it's to be." Aetheor's voice did not crack or falter as he opened his eyes and drew to his full height. Clad in expensive and flashy silver fullplate, on top of his natural height and bulk, he was an intimidating yet inspiring sight.

Aetheor turned and regarded the woman addressing him. Lithe and fine of build, wearing armor matching in flashiness to his own, he was somewhat impressed that someone of her status would even grace this town. At first glance, Aetheor likened her to a Goddess, in all of her beautiful glory. However, trained as he was, he was able to dispel those thoughts automatically.

"A suicide mission, you say? So I am truly to be thrown in with the lot of inhuman scum. Is this how the general thinks of me? A man driven only by his faith, to defend the weak who cannot defend themselves...am I akin to filth?"

Aetheor's stern, cool attitude was quickly shattering. With the sound of straining metal, he began gripping his warhammer tightly, in an effort to control his rage.

"Well, whatever the purpose of the mission, I still stand by my creed to defend the weak. There are still those inside this town who cannot fight. However...I pray that the Heavens prevent this from being my burial ground. What are your orders?"

As if anger had never gripped him, Aetheor dropped to one knee in front of Asidhara, in a calm gesture of submission.