Sgt. Grunwald called it a failure, but under the circumstances, I cannot see that we could do otherwise.
My men were flawless. They fought against absurd odds, four against dozens. Perhaps I should have summoned aid sooner, but I hadn't anticipated the strength of the force against us. This was no ordinary troll raiding party.
I also fell prey to the mistake that most make: everybody assuming that somebody will do the job anybody can do, but resulting in nobody doing it. Still, sending the men to move the wagons sooner would have left two against a small army, and while I know Pvt. O'Creagh is a competent archer and made of stern stuff, it would have been entirely too much for us. Sending Pvts. Sebale and Hammersmith I got reinforcements was the correct thing to do.
I may have been too conservative in my approach, but under the circumstances, I think I did no worse than could be expected.
What troubles me is that catapult. It was apparently a relic of the Second War, so it's not unreasonable that the trolls might have found it--but how did they learn to use it? That is the sticking point. To be able to aim it and fire it with any accuracy is not something one can do by just trial-and-error. Either they've been playing with it for some time, or someone taught them.
I am more inclined to believe the latter. This was too well coordinated. They knew our numbers and our vulnerability, and they struck with precision. For all their shouts of pillage and plunder, they were far too eager to destroy the bridge and the wagons with it. No, this was for blood, not goods--and as this was the Skullsplitter and not the Bloodscalp, they would have no reason for this.
I could easily convince myself that they had outside instigation and help--and in that case, we were literally doomed to fail.
But my men performed flawlessly. I will maintain that until the end of days.
Apparently last night was some sort of victory. I confess that I cannot agree. We lost the engagement, and only by barely scratching out survival did we earn back that which we should not have lost to begin: the Horde's regard. Indeed, I almost have a feeling that we earned that by the caprice of luck than by any skill or determination of our own.
Not only that, but we played by the Horde's rules. We rushed in headlong and tried to win by brute force, rather than by strategy and wisdom, as is our strength. I feel degraded by the blunt stupidity of it, and the attitude of pandering to idiots.
I am responsible for keeping up my own spirits, of course. But if this continues--if I must persist in playing the fool to please shortsighted savages and parasites--then I am not sure my resolve will hold.
I honor Lord Montclair's vision for our Regiment: good, righteous, honorable soldiers who represent all that the Alliance stands for, and all that is good in civilization--every man a knight, even if he hasn't the title. I am not sure I can honor anyone else's.
#12498459 Jun 28, 2016 at 01:05 AM · Edited over 4 years ago
I have a little time before my watch begins, and I cannot sleep. I'll write instead.
Things are looking up, albeit in the mixed way they tend to do. On Saturday, we carried out a "rescue mission" that, at first, appeared to be wholly unnecessary--but our presence was very fortunate indeed, for the camp was beset by trolls. We managed to defend the camp, although Sgt. Grunwald and Cpl. Stonewall lost the man they were trying to escort to safety. I detached some of my troops to aid them as quickly as possible, and we managed to save Cpl. Stonewall, but we were just a little too late to save the surveyor. The S.T.C. will not be pleased with the loss of their employee.
On Sunday, I carried out a training session for our recruits, and after a little uncertainty, they performed very well indeed. I think it helped them a few hours ago, because we were called upon to form a knot, and they did so flawlessly. I am very proud of them, and for them. I feel I gave them some tools that they can now use to succeed.
A trainer's job is to make himself obsolete. I feel I've done that for them. I gave them something they could use, and now they use it to great effect of their own will. They will rise, and I rejoice for them.
((The following is written in some sort of multi-language code, which appears to be the same as the entry several days before. It is patchy and rough, as if the parts haven't come together quite.))
Much as I am loath to give rein to my feelings at all, I have some uneasiness over things that have happened of late. Mother Muriah worries me. When I observed her healing of Cpl. Stonewall, it seemed to me she used the Holy Light like a cudgel, or a welding torch--to heal through destruction. Its operation in healing should not cause pain to the target, but a sense of comfort, an easing of suffering. For instance, when I heal someone, it never hurts. When my friend Tolath heals someone, they actually feel relaxed and safe.
She seemed unaware also that I have the ability to cleanse poisons and diseases. But she is the head of the Priory of Westridge, which includes the Order of St. Isaac. She should be familiar with the abilities of paladins. I am concerned, but I cannot know what is amiss. Certainly she is confident that what she does is right, or else the Holy Light would not answer her, but there is something not right. I will observe.
Something is also wrong with Pvt. O'Creagh. She seems a bit distant, and her usual cheer forced. I would ask her what's wrong, but I think she would evade the question. Others know her better than I, of course, so perhaps I am seeing something that isn't there.
As to Sgt. Grunwald, I hardly know what to think. I was rather startled when we found that the surveyors desperately in need of rescue included his father. I feel a complete fool for not realizing that the Grunwald of the Trading Company and our own sergeant were related.
He and the Lord-Marshal had a long conversation while I was doctoring our wounded, Saturday night. I hope there's nothing to my conspiracy theory of today, but if there is, then my hope is now we can direct our efforts toward setting things right.
Light knows, we have a lot of work to do on that.
((Here the code ends, and the text resumes in Common.))
The s.b.c. is too dangerous to test while we remain here. Application of small amounts of mechanical stress, of any sort, causes the crystal to discharge energy. It is not the vibrations causing the harmful frequency. The frequency results, as far as I can determine, in joint pain, dizziness, and organ stress.
Now that I know this, I can devise better safety measures--but the most pressing one is that I must suspend experimentation. It is entirely too dangerous to passersby, so I will need a more secure facility.
Note to self: Perhaps request assistance from Mage Circle of Sarceline. Would like to know what sort of energy.
Additional note: Prepare preliminary report with findings and recommendations.
Would be funny if they decided to hand it off to the "experts" on the STC's payroll--seeing as most of them would have learned the science of their trade through the textbooks I translated. That only means it would eventually come back to me anyway.
I'm exhausted. I was up all night with the wounded after a heated battle. Duty compels me.
The trolls of the Vale are against us. I suppose it was inevitable--they do not care for peace--but who knew there were so many? And somehow, they have found more catapults.
If I find that someone has been arming them against us, may the Light have mercy on him, for I shall not. I watched too many good and courageous young people die last night.
One of Hallowell's group died as well. I could not save him. Though I know he likely would have died sooner had he not joined our regiment, nonetheless I feel responsible. It was under my command that he enlisted, and now he leaves a wife and child, likely destitute. What do I do for that? I cannot do nothing.
The Horde is with us, though. After last night's battle, they sent us reinforcements, who are now camped beyond our walls to cover our rear. While I know this is precisely how our men died at the Broken Front, Vol'jin is infinitely more honorable than Garrosh was. May the Light stay our hands from doing anything to insult one another.
Lord Montclair does not deal well with being injured, or treated for injuries. It made aiding him tricky. He's a patient man, but when at an extremity of discomfort, even the least irritation can cause lasting...damage? Resentment, perhaps. I wish I weren't so tired; I can barely command words, much less write them coherently.
Final thought: Sgt. Grunwald has taken Recruit von Spraker under his wing. I am glad for her, but I will still look out to help her learn. She has much enthusiasm and potential; she just needs focus and discipline.
Now the Light subsides, having used me as a vessel. Such power, I have never seen the like of it. I cannot number the wicked ones who fell before the wrath of the Light, manifested through me. I am humbled to the dust that I was chosen this night.
How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, Nor stand in the manner of sinners, Nor sit in the seat of scoffers! But his delight is in the law of the Light, And in that law he meditates day and night. He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, Which yields its fruit in its season And its leaf does not wither; And in whatever he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so, But they are like chaff which the wind drives away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. For the Light knows the way of the righteous, But the way of the wicked will perish.
May it be so. May it be so. Glory and honor to the Source of the Light, forever.
I redouble my oaths and dedication.
Now I must see to the wounded and the dying. May these hands be judged worthy again, this time to healing and not destruction.
I feel the Light within me, shining more than ever; I am filled, and overflow. I pray that I am granted another measure of might, so that I may guard those around me, whom I love only just less than the Light loves them.
With renewed zeal do I start this day, a new and bright day. There are perils and stumblingblocks, but none so great that we cannot triumph. There is labor and duty, but they are for the betterment of others and the world, and oneself; I shall embrace them, and fervently perform them.
Let the goodness of the Light be seen in me. Let me be a beacon to those in darkness, that they may know the hope I know, and forget the fears I no longer fear.
Ft. Greenwell has fallen, and we are now stationed in the colony itself. It was technically a defeat, but despite the losses, I still feel optimistic. The purpose of Ft. Greenwell was to provide a buffer against hostile forces; it did that. We fought back the uncountable legions of the jungle trolls, drove them back into the jungle, and have made an orderly march to our next station. This is normal. This is to be expected. This is far better than it might have been.
I will not permit myself to despair, or even to doubt. Part of my calling is to inspire by example, and I will keep hope. I spent the night praying for the dead and caring for the wounded. I will soon rest, and spend the remaining hours before our next engagement wearing a face of confidence and hope before all the men.
Yes, I am afraid. Yes, I am angry, especially for the young soldiers the trolls murdered in the name of wicked spirits. No, I will not allow it to rule me. My feelings are irrelevant when my duty is clear. Now, more than ever, is the time when my self-command means something. Lives depend on it.
I am proud of our recruits. They fought admirably, bravely, in the face of what seemed impossible. They gave what was demanded of them, and more. I am still proud to have had the privilege of helping them. we leave this place, all of these men and women will go on to great things. I will make sure they live to see it, Light willing.
We will survive this. We will triumph--because we must. Light watch over us.
Tonight will be the Fireworks Spectacular over the gates of Stormwind City. I've missed it the last three years, due to my service; it will be splendid to see it again. Perhaps I'll invite Riyaa to join me.
Fortunately, she did not interrupt me in my bath; she knew I would need the rest and quiet, to resume my actual life, and came later. She brought the usual paperwork and news, and my mail.
A little disappointment, in that there were no letters from Rebecca Blakely waiting for me. I had thought they didn't get forwarded to me in Ft. Greenwell, but they weren't sent here, either. I suppose she's moved on to someone who could be there, which is perhaps for the best. I'm not even sure any "us" could have happened, considering my odd position; I am noble, and will be returning to nobility if Lordaeron is ever restored, and a countess of common birth might not be so well accepted.
The audits went well; there was only one manager "forgetting" to pay the full amount of taxes owed. I've sent him to find another job, and had to pay the arrears. Better to do it now than hope nobody notices, because no matter how much aggravation it causes today to admit a wrong and make it right, waiting until it's found out makes one all the more culpable in the eyes of the world.
I took time last night to socialize with the other troops--Hopefield, Blakemore, von Spraker, Butterchurn, Falconheart, Stonewall, O'Creagh--but I think we were all tired from our long deployment and journey. Grunwald acted a bit strangely about it, first indicating he'd like to join us, but then suddenly deciding he should see to paperwork. A bit baffling, that, but people usually do confuse me.
I am now authorized to continue my experiments on the s.b.c., so I will need to enact some of the safety protocols I have in mind. Until I know the nature of the energies released by the crystal, I should probably remove my experiments to a more remote location. Light knows I don't want to move house, but it may now be time for me to do what Riyaa keeps insisting I ought to do, as a gentleman, and rent or purchase a house outside of the city. I wonder if anything is available in Westridge?
I'll need some lead shielding. Lead is impervious to almost everything, in my experience, and the crystal's energies should be no exception. And I'll need some way to increase the mechanical pressure on the sample without damaging it. For that, I should probably see an engineer. It's a similar concept to the quartz in a pocketwatch, but one obviously needs a different mechanism for a thirty-carat crystal as opposed to a sixth-carat one.
Auromere, you will never make a good officer if you persist in acting like a timid child trying to please his father. Act like a man, for Light's sake, and stop taking things so personally. How can you become all but an avatar of the Holy Light one night, and be so unsure of your worth the next?
((The handwriting ceases to reflect agitation hereinafter.))
Perhaps I am too reserved. People will respond to friendliness and confidence. I should make more of an effort to be open with others--not too open, of course, but more so than I am. Ironically, people would like me better if my reserve came from arrogance, the idea that others are unworthy to draw any nearer!
I must and will overcome this--not for myself, but for their sake.
We deploy tomorrow, and to the Arathi Highlands. From what I understand, the Horde is moving to stake a claim to the city of Stromgarde, under the spurious claim that Prince Galen Trollbane has sworn allegiance to--and ceded the throne to--Sylvanas Windrunner. Prince Trollbane died some time ago, and what calls itself Trollbane has proven that it is most certainly . The Trollbanes would never yield up their people to the Lich Queen.
Yes, I shall call her that. She is precisely that, for she uses val'kyr to slaughter the living and enslave their remains to her will. And now she extends her borders again, to crush all that lives under her heel.
The enemy of my enemy is not my friend.
Last night, some of us gathered at the garrison to visit and socialize. I think I did well; in light of the chat Pvt. O'Creagh and I had to iron out our misunderstandings, it seems I should be more open, more friendly, less reserved. I am grateful that she agreed with my assessment, and accepted my apology.
But there was something that arose, which troubles me. It seems that the people of Stormwind are eager to see my homeland abandoned forever in favor of foreign adventurers and interlopers, even abandoned to the Horde if the Horde wants it--anything but seeing my people restored. It sticks in my craw, to be frank. We took in the people of Stormwind. We rallied to help them reclaim what was theirs, and then paid gold and sweat and blood to help them rebuild.
If Lordaeron had had the same attitude toward Stormwind as they now toward us? There would be no shining city on the bay, no kingdom. There would be no army, no navy, no air corps. We could have "let the dead stay dead"--and then died ourselves, all of us together, because there would have been no Alliance.
And we paid for our openhandedness with abandonment. It smacks of ingratitude, even dishonor. It would be one thing if we all knew to a certainty that Lordaeron could never live again--but they speak of it as a thing decided, and
This was my . I had a place, a life, a name. I was going to protect the people of Northlight, like my father before me and his before him, a line unbroken to before the Menethils even thought about sitting on a throne. And now, my father has given up, all my other family are dead, my people gone, leaving only me to ensure that the name Auromere isn't lost forever.
Commoners can't understand why this weighs upon me. They live in the now, in their own lives. If their own needs are met, they've done all they're called upon to do. But nobles must live in all points of time at once--in the past with our ancestors, in the present with those we are called to serve and protect, in the future with our descendants who must take up the mantle when we are gone.
We do this so they need not--but I wish, I wish they would open their minds for a moment and try to have a little empathy.
I have updated my will, settled business matters, and seen to the care of the rats and the squirrels. Riyaa will find a house for me to rent, in my absence, and I will trust to her judgment.
I have spent too much time working on my report on the s.b.c., which is now locked away in a high-security vault; my eyes are strained, so I must be brief.
I did not take my violin on the Kingsland deployment because I feared the humidity would ruin it. The Arathi Highlands are far more arid, so that should not be a problem. It would be good to have music, and if old friends should happen to turn up, we might play together.
Now I must prepare to march.
#12533866 Jul 11, 2016 at 07:45 AM · Edited 5 years ago
On Saturday, I was promoted to corporal. It is a great honor, and I mean to serve to the utmost of my ability.
However, my old fears rise anew. I worry that I will not be equal to the job. I worry that I will fail, and disappoint those who have trusted me. I worry that the recruits trusted to my guidance will come away unprepared for what lies ahead.
Yesterday did not reassure me. I am so . I hardly know anything--and doubly the shame on me, because Cpl. O'Creagh seemed to know so much. I caught myself retreating into my old habit of reserve.
We cannot afford for me to do that. I have a job to do, and I will do it.
The key focus is to ensure that our recruits have their training. That is my job. If I do nothing else, then I have still done my job.
Action plan going forward:
Take a long walk around the city. Map it, and find out what and who belongs where. If there are medical facilities prepared, or kitchens for hot food, whatever there may be, I should know this, for the good of the troops.
Similarly, talk to people. Get to know our allies, find out what they know.
Inquire of my superiors what our parameters are: what we may and may not do, to whom we answer, etc.
Get chicken for stew. If we can have hot meals, we should.
Look for opportunities to instruct and train recruits.
On Saturday as well, we tried our skill against a brigade from Westfall. Overall, we handled ourselves brilliantly, and I am sure we would have won had Sgt. Grunwald not put an end to it. He seemed disappointed in our performance, and it offends me. My men did more than could be expected of anyone--a dozen of us against eighty of them!--half of our opponents were already down, and none of us with more than feigned armor damage. We have triumphed. But in the interest of diplomacy, I agreed that it was a draw.
I should have shown more confidence, overtly. I owe the men more loyalty than that.
The map is apparently good enough. It's just a rough sketch, but then again, do we need more than that? I suppose making a more polished one is something I can do if I find spare time.
While much of the coalition sallied forth to engage the Horde outside of the city, our Regiment remained behind. Sgt. Grunwald took the time to give a lesson on the basics of the siege, which was informative and probably will prove every last bit useful before this deployment is over. It is well that we stayed behind to learn, even if we were not here strictly as reserves; someone has to mind the base. When the time comes, we will be ready.
The recruits are proving very capable. Recruit Agrallian is already a veteran of past wars, and he seems quiet and competent. Recruit Cape is intelligent, but a little shy; she needs encouragement when she does a good job. Recruit Leadwind has proven very dedicated, all business, very professional. We are very fortunate in them.
I should be keeping a lookout for Pvt. Sebale. The other corporals have sent him to me for a sense of purpose, they said. I'll do my level best--not to him a purpose, but to help him discover it for himself. He's a good man and deserves to climb in rank.
I'm not quite sure I'm equal to the task, but I will try. At least I can like I know what I'm about.
#12545561 Jul 15, 2016 at 08:28 AM · Edited over 4 years ago
((The handwriting is shaky, as if the hand couldn't properly hold the pen.))
15 July, before dawn
By grace of the Light, we saved almost all of them. I am grateful. Every time I must pray for the dead, I feel as if I am sending some part of myself with them into Eternity.
Or perhaps it's just that I'm so tired. It was bad, last night. So many on the edge of death, with only a handful of us to hold them back.
Now that I can rest, my mind is beginning to wander, and I doubt myself. For instance, I wonder if I manage to communicate how I actually feel. Sometimes I suspect I come off as patronizing rather than friendly. I don't mean to, but I don't know how else to be.
I'm probably making much out of nothing because of the weakness attendant upon fatigue. I'll sleep a bit and see if that helps.
I tried to help Pvt. Sebale with finding purpose, but I'm not sure whether I accomplished anything. I'm trying to teach him something I have to reverse engineer. I've had my doubts, and I've thought it through--"it" being "anything I think or believe"--but the conclusions and determinations come together instantly for me. It's just something I've always done, always been.
Not unlike when I tried to teach people how to read: I don't remember not being able to read. Literally, I can remember back to when I was three years old and even then, there was no mystery in the written language. I have no common experience with struggling to learn.
It's not a strength. It's not a blessing. It's a hell of a weakness. And I have to overcome it to do the job I've been assigned.
I'm going to sleep on it. I'll be needed again entirely too soon.
((The next bit of text is steadier.))
I think it had to do with my upbringing. I was raised to believe it was my purpose in life to protect the people of Northlight, physically and politically. That was my life, my goal, my vision--imparted to me, yes, but I accepted it and internalized it because it is a good vision. Vision breeds purpose; purpose informs mission; mission breeds action.
I need to set this down more methodically. I think I may be on to something. And I need to speak with Tolath; I remember him saying something about this, many a time. Tolath's always been wiser than I, by far wiser.
#12547804 Jul 16, 2016 at 02:44 AM · Edited 5 years ago
How I wish, how I wish I didn't have to be so insensitive. I wish I could say "yes" to anything. Seeing her pain and frustration...how could I not wish I could stop it? But the law is the law, and those things are his heirs', and if I let her do it I have to let everyone do it, and then
((The text breaks off here, and then resumes.))
Someone has to look out for others. Someone has to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, and his family could not. Light knows I didn't mean to hurt her. She meant well.
Someone has to look out for others.
I should have gone with Sgt. Grunwald. I should have asked. I might have saved him. They needed me, and I was somewhere else. I went gaily back to the city, all prepared to heal the few injured, all full of exultation over a victory well earned at so little cost, and then this.
I cannot escape the feeling that this is my fault. Light forgive me.
#12556311 Jul 19, 2016 at 08:56 AM · Edited over 4 years ago
Stromgarde has fallen. Sylvanas proved herself the Lich Queen indeed, bringing Plague wagons to bombard the city and make over her enemies into her slaves.
The Horde is and must remain our enemies so long as they permit her to carry out these atrocities. All their words of honor and peace and integrity mean nothing, if they support her by allowing her in their midst, if they shelter her while she brings the world under her tyrannical rule.
I wonder if the others now understand why I still love Lordaeron and yearn for its restoration? They toiled, bled, lived and died for the nation of Arathor, committed to its preservation--in some ways, loved it--and now it is no more. They witnessed the fear and sorrow of the now homeless families, the orphaned children. They saw what they had fought to protect destroyed.
Can they understand?
Unlikely. Most people live in the now. They may make the occasional bow to the past, pretend to revere it, but does one really treasure something if he can lightly live without it? If, with a shrug of the shoulders and a sigh of "Oh well", he can go about his merry way and no longer think of it?
Sometimes, indeed, I feel like the only person really capable of --not the immediate emotional froth of a stimulated response, but real, spiritual movement, the resonance of the soul with higher principles and higher realities.
That's unjust and unworthy, probably more than I realize even when I look at it objectively. Perhaps I just don't know about others because most people don't talk about it. After all, I don't, not often. They probably do feel as I do, more or less. I need to stop being so cynical; it's not right. If I want to know about people, I should .
On another note, a few impressions from last night's mission: Pvt. Sebale is showing increasing interest in what paladins do. I should likely try to speak with him. To be a paladin is to be to service; I think we have too many lukewarm "paladins" because they lack this sense of vocation. They see the shiny horses and the power and the privilege and decide they want those, without understanding those things are ours. Indeed, the rising tendency to regard the Holy Light as some sort of alternative to the Arcane is problematic.
If he is not called, then he ought not to start down this path; it would be a sacrilege, and I do not wish to see any more worthy young people deceived into blasphemy. Granted, if he is called, then I will do any and all in my power to see him advance. But I think he is not ready, not quite yet. I will speak with him.
Recruit Cape has a tendency to get physical when she is in battle. She might make a good spellsword. I might offer to help her with close combat training, with sword and staff, if Pvt. Falconheart thinks it good.
The citizens we rescued have raised again in me, keenly, my wish for a family of my own. Picking up that child, I felt fatherly toward him. Saving the woman, I was restoring a man's wife to him and a mother to her children. I almost despair of having a family with whom to share such feelings; I have children without a wife, and cannot take a wife with my station so uncertain. I must find my way, my place, and soon.
After all, if I don't know my own place, how can I help others find theirs?
((After an intervening passage about fel energy, which appears to be extensive quotes from another writing, the next appears, seeming to be a continuation of the above.))
19 July, afternoon
I have taken enough time to mourn for the three we could not save. There were too many...but I wonder if I shouldn't have taken one of their places in death. It is not something given to many to do. I am not sure I could have done it. But perhaps I should have tried.
Next time, I will offer, and let the Light decide.
Under the circumstances, I am sending a request to my contacts in the Exodar for supplemental information. If they are willing to share, I will ask for a copy of the display crystals used to show holograms of the different demonic races. We may need training materials, if trends continue.
More so than that, we have limited means to prepare our troops for combat with such unusual enemies. I will have to take back up my idea for a training array. I find a way to overcome the limitation that prevents physical contact with the simulated enemy.
Tonight I resume my place as a Westridge Cavalier. Though I look back and see many ways in which I have faltered and even failed, there is no more time for me to indulge my more delicate sensibilities. We may require the edge that riding into battle can afford.
I do begin to feel that, though I am indulged in it for the most part, I am often overstepping my authority. I should not be calling commands in battle when there are those of higher rank or seniority among us. I act in order to facilitate, to ensure that things go smoothly--to be helpful, in short--but perhaps it is, yet again, a failure of trust on my part. I will hold back, for a time. The fate of the world, after all, does not rest on my shoulders, nor am I the only fellow who knows what's going on.
Riyaa has located several country houses for rent, the best prospects of which are in Westridge. It's just as well; if I am a knight in service to Duke Maxen, then I should live within his domain. I tour one of the houses today.
#12565505 Jul 22, 2016 at 05:39 PM · Edited over 4 years ago
Not much to say. After having seen the houses, I am undecided. I attempted to tell Riyaa to use her best judgment, but she was having none of that. "You are a very parsnickular man, Jerem," she said. "I am not about to be sharked at when you do not like the parlor three months from now."
She has an unparalleled mastery of Common in matters of business, but her grasp of colloquialism leaves much to be desired. I also have no idea what she meant by "sharked". Frankly, I'm afraid to ask.
I held a training session for the recruits last night, with sparring practice against Pvt. Hallowell and his team. I no longer repent of recruiting them; they are a tight-knit team, and Hallowell shows a lot of promise as a tactician. I did not expect him to have a reserve force, and then have them outflank us. Blue Team still won, but Red Team was no mere collection of punching bags this time.
I am still not used to the feel of my cavalier's helm. The crest atop it makes the balance feel a bit off. I'm sure I will grow more accustomed, but for now, every time I look around, I feel like my helmet is going to fall off.
Stalwart is behaving better, which is a blessing of no small import. I have to choose a squire, which means that I will likely need to teach him or her to ride and fight; having a fractious horse--even if he is a spirit being rather than a horse--could undermine my squire's confidence in my teaching. He still acts disdainful from time to time, but I can endure that a great deal better than his old habit of running away with me and jumping fences.
The question is now whom I should choose. Cpl. O'Creagh caught me right after the meeting, and I don't have a moment's doubt she will be an excellent squire. On the other hand, I should like to train Pvt. Sebale, if he were interested, but then again, perhaps it is better if he were to train under Cpl. Stonewall, whom he (rightly) respects. As for others, most of them have other career paths they mean to follow.
I can't train both of them at once--even assuming Pvt. Sebale were interested. And he didn't ask, anyway. Cpl. O'Creagh it is, and the first step will be to teach her to ride a horse.
Seek out an officer in-game! When applications are approved a list of everybody who can interview you will be listed along with their in-game names. Using /who and typing the guild name also works as well!
Hello. i was just wondering how i can contact someone for my in-character interview.