Kaustir, Chapter 2

[Zen]

Despite being led by the Foreman and the Warden, Amalia still took precautions. She told Rakar to stay up in front - behind the Warden - and for K'jol to bring up the rear. Whatever anxiety and fear Foreman Henvit displayed was not noticed by the General; she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts.

The crude drawings brought her thoughts back to the Czar and her shoulder wound ached in response. She wondered if she would ever measure up to the previous General, if the Czar even missed Korsch, and if Lukesh truly trusted her. He should have if he was willing to risk the nation for this Divine Weapon. She clenched her fists and shook her head to clear the doubtful thoughts.

As someone who is used to the vast expanse of the desert and the stimulation of a bustling city, the tunnels of Dorgrad were stifling to the General. The workers of this vast metropolis did their best to stay out of the party's way, but bits of dirt and stone found their way under their shoes. With bodies pressed this close together combined with the lava from the dormant volcano, Amalia wondered how many workers were lost due to the heat. This was no worker's paradise, no matter what the Czar said.

Foreman Henvit did as he was ordered and led them to Theo. The centaur was occupied with a group of workers who quickly scattered when the Foreman and Warden approached. Henvit shot Theo a nervous glance before waving the General forward.

"Ah, Theo - I p-present to you the First General of Kaustir."

Amalia smiled hesitantly, bowing at the hip.

"Pleasure to meet you. I am Amalia Lortik. Seiyr, if you could retrieve the tablet for me." Her lips lost the smile and tightened to a thin line. Amalia tried to keep some amount of warmth in her gaze. "Theo, if you could be so kind to translate something of ours, Kaustir will forever be in your debt."

 

[Zen]

In Zirako

Naveen Lortik is a wealthy man. He makes a living off of raising camels and elephants for soldiers, merchants, and nobility. After tirelessly working to amass a small fortune, he has earned himself a small place in the Court of Zirako - he is one of the Royal Stablemasters. He is in charge of breeding, training, and acquiring mounts for the nation, and he takes great pride in this fact. Naveen is a boastful man, self centered, petty, and greedy.

When news reached him that his daughter, Amalia Lortik, became General, he was devastated. For nearly three days, he wrestled the news from every courier and merchant that arrived from Avarath.

"Yes, Amalia Lortik, the First General of Kaustir. The Czar himself proclaimed her so."

"I saw it with my own eyes! Pushed the Czar and the other contestants with a bubble! Incredible!"

"Didn't know how to hold a spear properly, that one. She'll get killed or raped by one of her soldiers I can guarantee you of that. Kaustir is forever doomed with her as General."

Begrudgingly he began to accept the reality, and couldn't have been more furious. His daughter was supposed to stay in Court and behave, not run off chasing fantasies. Passing through the Court was a grueling experience, where every nobleman liked to tease him about his useless daughter. He was in the midst of getting ready to go to Avarath and demand his daughter to surrender her title when suitors arrived at his doorstep, bearing gifts and favors.

The gifts quickly grew more and more grandiose. First it was a crate of Keshnik and other exotic foods from across Sunne. Then came the goats, camels, wild boar, and money. Pounds and pounds of it. By the fifth day, Naveen was receiving suitors offering to give him servants, full grown elephants, and a new, larger home in the exquisite Hamar corner in exchange for Amalia's hand in marriage. Perhaps his daughter wasn't so useless after all.

"Where are all of these visitors coming from Naveen?" asked Ria Lortik when such suitor left their home. She paused, coughing up blood. "And where is our daughter?"

"In the Healer's Quarter. Working as always."

"Why hasn't she come to see us?"

He feigned innocence and laid with his bedridden wife. "Amalia has stayed away from our house because she doesn't want us to find out about her surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yes a surprise." He sighed and stroked his wife's forehead. "She made me promise not to say a word about it, not until she was ready... But I believe our daughter has finally found a husband."

Ria clung weakly to Naveen's fingers. "Really? Who is the lucky man and when can I meet him?"

Naveen Lortik smiled and kissed his wife's gaunt cheeks. "Soon my love. Soon."

 

[Kriodine]

Draegal stood above the collapsed body, the Draken was barely holding onto his life. Draegal knelt down and put his head on the chest of the soon to be dead body, and he listened. The heart was beating frantically, the heart was strong while the body was weak. Draegal motioned for one of the caravan guards to come over.

"Please lend me your sword"

Draegal activated his advent, forced the Draken's mouth open and poured the liquid down his throat. Draegal watched the body go numb and quickly got to work. He grabbed the sword and sliced open the chest. He then ripped the ribs apart and stared at the heart. After a few moments he was back in his cart, with the heart in a jar. He was not ashamed of his actions, he gave the Draken a quick and painless death instead of the long agonizing one that he had been doomed to. Through out the three days he had watched the slaves like a vulture, waiting for the right ones to become "ripe for the harvest." By the time the caravan had reached Zirako, Draegal had collected enough "supplies" to last him a year.

 

[Obskeree]

Theo the Miner

Theo had forgotten how to talk. Or move. For what felt like far too long, he could only stand there dumbstruck: he had never met anyone even remotely important or famous before.

Eventually his senses caught up to him and he panicked, curling a front hoof and bowing awkwardly as he lowered his head. It didn't feel at all right to look down at her, but he had no choice - he towered over most.

"First General - sir - ma'am," he fumbled. Why me? "I don't think I'd be much help translating anything, I'm just... I'm just a miner."

 

[heliacalRebirth]

Seiyr

[dash=red]Seiyr carefully removed the tablet from her person, taking a long look at the engravings before reluctantly handing it over to the miner. It was a puzzle she couldn't crack and therefore the bane of her existence. Instead of returning by the General's side she stood next to Theo, her Aux causing the hairs on his arms to perk up as she focused intently on the archaic symbols, then on their translator and back.

The group waited.[/dash]

 

[Obskeree]

Theo the Miner

"Thank you..." Theo mumbled to Seiyr. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and didn't dare look up to check if it was true. Instead he focused on the item he had been given.

The writing on it appeared nothing but squiggles to Theo initially. He was about to comment that surely no one could translate it - but he paused.

Turning the inscription upside down, and side to side, he investigated the squiggles and found them to follow a very natural formation, one he recognised. Not only was it a map, it was a guide: a surveyor's path through an ancient labyrinth.

He blinked slowly and raised his head, looking to the General.

"It's a map." He realised after he had said it that they must have already known that - why else would they bring it to a Minotaur? All the same, though, there must have been better Minotaurs than he. Gaios flew out of his bag and landed on his shoulder, a tiny, perfect statue until he spoke.

"Hey pretty lady! What's down there in the dark?" Gaios chirped. He seemed to be directing his question to Amalia, but Theo responded first, mortified his Aux had the gall to ask a question to one so high up in the world.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, Gaios... ignore him, please." He glanced nervously at the heavily armed individuals surrounding her.

 

[Dunruffle]

Nils chuckled and stepped forward, "I see Gaios is as curious as ever Theo." Nodding to one of his few actual friends Nils absentmindedly fiddled with his chain. "We believe that there is an artifact of great importance beneath the sands of the wasteland. I personally recommended you to the Czar after I was assigned to this expedition. I know your skills and you are one of, if not the most reliable workers down here. If you assist us and this mission is a success I can assure you that you will be rewarded well my friend. General Lortik and the Czar himself are counting on you to help us with our mission." Nils looked him in the eye and smiled, "I still owe you for saving my life so long ago. I felt now was the best opportunity for me to repay you..."

 

[Tegan]

Tales of the Wastes

Many seasons past...

The deserts of Kaustir are not devoid of life. There are those who sailed wooden ships across the White Dunes as if through water. They hunted the Thunder Whales, gargantuan storm bringing creatures. There were sagely kin'folk who communed with the cacti and the sacred desert flowers. They brought visions of desert medicine to the people of the wastes.

The people of the wastes knew that those who lived in the Scorched Land were meant to take the Shaman's journey and dance with ghosts across the burning sands. The kin'folk taught them secret ways to weave their stories into vibrant fibers. The people of the wastes adorn their clothes, jewelry, tools, and weapons with their stories. Life was collecting stories.











Life and death in the Scorched Land...

Are the same.​

 

[Obskeree]

Theo the Miner

Theo relaxed a bit at someone he recognised, feeling bad he hadn't spotted Nils beforehand.

"You know I didn't do it for the favour," he mumbled in reply with a brief, grateful smile, before glancing back down at the map. "So, its funny, actually, I...there's an entry to this network right down there." He gestured down the tunnel he had visited earlier and hesitated as he remembered the bug. The General must have known about them - why else would her entourage be so heavily armoured? "Are we to set off now? My comrades will be closing the branch soon..."

He didn't mind embarking straight away - though it was a concern of his that that would leave this Chamber without a Minotaur again... He was sure Henvit would be able to deal with things; Theo wasn't important enough for the system to fail without him.

 

[Asmodeus]

Foreman Henvit hissed at Theo to be quiet then stepped between the Anima and the general. In Theo's shadow the Draken's eyes gleamed as he bowed low.

"Forgive the beast, my general. He is confused. There was a gas pocket in the lower tunnel." His cobra head twisted to glare at Theo. "It has addled his brain."

He bowed even lower, tongue flickering as if to lick Amalia's feet. "The tunnel is to be sealed. Let me bring you to another Minotaur. We have many in Chamber Twelve, more qualified than this one. They will give you your answers."

The magma river bubbled below the gantry, painting crimson shadows across his scales.

 

[Tone 6th]

The swordsman stayed close to the General ready to strike if need be. When he heard Theo ask if the group was ready to go he leaned over to Amalia "General it would be most unwise if we went in now. Most of the men still haven't recovered from the walk across the desert." He whispered. Takeda leaned in very close to Amalia and put his hand to one side of his mouth and whispered very quietly "Need not forget that you still don't know how to fight. Let us take tonight so that I may train you in at least the basics General. If I do not bring you back with the basic knowledge of fighting the Czar will surly have my head. I request that you consider your options."

 

[Zen]

The woman glared down at the draken, her mind finally clearing from her doubtful thoughts. Henvit was hiding something, she could tell from the deep bow. She turned her gaze to Theo, noting his unease and was about to order him to take them further until Takeda whispered in her ear.

Amalia's resolve deflated immediately.

Her face softened as she took in the withered state of her caravan. True, as soldiers none of them were supposed to show weakness, but three days out in the desert would have taken a toll on any body. She paused, glanced down at Henvit and scowled once more.

"We won't be going right now, but I'm ordering you to keep this branch open for my party. Theo stays with us for the time being. We'll be resting for the night before we move forward." Amalia held her hand out to Theo, requesting the tablet.

Her stern gaze stayed upon the foreman. A moment's silence.

"Is there something you're keeping from me Foreman Henvit?"

 

[Cheesecake]

H'kal whipped the disobedient miner as he began to raise is pick and rally the other miners, causing the others to roar and scream, but they were silenced as soon as his aux, the whip, met the bare back of the firebrand, instead replaced by a shriek and a moan. H'kal towered over many of the miners, even some of the Draken, and he looked naturally intimidating. One of the reasons they took him to be an enforcer.

Continuing his rounds, he saw that one miner was missing. The new minotaur, recently assigned to his position. Either he hasn't arrived yet, or he's slacking off. Both ways, H'kal had to find the answer. He raised his lamp, his source of light, as well as heat, in the dark and cold. The deeper parts of the caverns were not friendly to Draken, and they had to rest by sources of heat periodically found in the tunnels. They were close by to a lava source, so H'kal put out his lantern. He could remember where to go without it.

Then he saw the miner, with a group of armed men, most outsiders, but some were Ipari, and one was a Draken who helped the Commisar. If the Ipari are down here, it must have been something important, but it was H'kal's duty to keep a close eye on the new miner, and find out why he had stopped. He slithered over to the group, not having legs so his steps were unheard, and came up in front of them. Addressing the miner directly, ignoring the others, he questioned why he had stopped.

"Miner. Why have you ceased work? The daily quota has not been reached. Return." It was a monotonous phrase he was taught a thousand times and he had used a thousand times. His face was blank, as was his tone. He held the whip in hand, and his vial of drake fire if the situation became dire.

 

[unanun]

Zirako, brown

There was no room for celebration in Zirako. The golden iron circle peeled open, the tiniest slit to allow the dwarfed caravan to enter. Of those who had clung to the end of winding snake of men and animal as it journeyed from Avarath, none remained, or none were nearby as the gates sealed themselves, the seam where they met disappearing in perfect mating.

Their celebration was the bustle that heralded their return. The caravan thinned as it ascended the layers to Zirako's apex.

The camel drivers, gecko wardens, and water-beetle tenders returned to their homes in the clustered, hap hazard Red tower. A choking amalgam of metal shacks and adobes carved into the mountain, the Red tower was home to the common folk, craftsmen who sent their designs to the inner workshops, and the barracks. The ringed area echoed with shouts, metal clanging, and other sounds of industry.

Higher the caravan climbed, the carriages locking into a ratcheted, automated staircase that pulled them upwards. At the Green tower, the cactus and fungus farmers departed, relieved of their duty to keep the succulent plants healthy for the trip. Amidst the howling sand and hyenas in the skin of man, it was a serene place, where waxy-skinned dragon fruit grew thickly on vines in the glaring sun.

At the Blue tower, Lut's carriage twisted off the dwindling caravan. Zirako's heart pumped here, gushing fountains of green-blue mineral water pouring down clean cut concrete aqueducts. Here, the Firefox cadres resided, citizens of various background clad in oiled animal skins. Each grasped an ever-burning lantern, and all were trained in the advent of Fire-Multiplication. Aqueduct 5 was deafeningly dry.

The water, green, and sounds of life faded to echoes as the remainder of the caravan moved to the Grey tower. Normally, Lut would have departed here, to return to the residences where the statesmen and bureaucrats lived. From the bird's-eye view that the soaring residences provided, he signed directives and stamped orders that reached out in gigantic arrows across Kaustir. From here, a swish of a pen dipped in ash ink could send a million men to their deaths.

And finally, the Black tower. No one knew what was inside.

 

[Obskeree]

Theo the Miner

H'Kal's words made Theo tense up as he handed the tablet back to Amalia - making him fumble a bit and almost drop the thing.

He turned quickly and took a step back. He didn't know H'Kal, but he knew what he was immediately. That phrase, those cold eyes, and a whip in hand were telling enough. It had been decades since Theo had been on the wrong end of a whip... He had no desire to revisit it.

While Amalia turned her attention to Henvit, Theo responded to the Draken.

"Comrade-Enforcer, I was called away by Foreman Henvit to aid the First General." His response sounded ludicrous, and yet it was all he could offer. "I believe as of tomorrow I am to be stationed with their party."

 

[Asmodeus]

Dorgrad

The intervention of the Mine Enforcer had given Henvit time to think. As H'Kal interrogated Theo the Draken Foreman bowed again to Amalia.

"I simply fear for the Czar's quota, my general. The Burning Czar demands unceasing production. Without the Minotaur-Adjuncts, we cannot find the seams in the lower tunnels."

H'Kal now blocked Theo entirely from the delegation. He barely had time to return the tablet to Seiyr before he was moved away by the Enforcer.

Henvit covered it with more platitudes. "Allow Theo to finish his shift for the night, and he will be released to you tomorrow. I will inform the Commissariat of the drop in production and they will seek the Czar's forgiveness."

The magma river bubbled below. The heat and claustrophobia had conspired and Amalia was sweating, lingering too long on these details. Warden Bracht was first to see it, and did the merciful thing. Stepping forward, the Ipari officer waved the foreman off and offered her arm for Amalia to hold. "Come, General. I will bring you and your people to the Worker's Hub. You can rest for the night. And I will find you fresh riding beasts for the journey home."

Nodding, Amalia consented, and the delegation was led away across the gantries, exiting the chamber via another stairwell. Only Henvit, Theo and H'kal remained, and watched until the party were out of sight.

Then the foreman hissed again. "Back to work!"

Theo nodded and stepped the other way, joining the tunnel to the work sites. And as he moved beyond earshot, Henvit snagged H'Kal's arm and whispered closely to the Enforcer, a Draken dialect that was masked by the bubbling magma.

"Comrade Theo Maladas is trying to shirk his duties. We'll grant his wish. I want him beaten. I want his legs broken. Make an example of him, but keep it from the General and Warden Bracht. We handle our own."

He released the Enforcer, and watched him follow Theo at a distance into the tunnels.

Zirako

Blood struck the marble floor, drop after drop making splatters and pools. It ran into the cracks, painting bloody frames around the other slabs.

Czar Lukesh brought his head against the iron door. More red dropped, a mixture of water, salt and blood sweating from his brow. His breaths were ragged, his eyes wide.

He was afraid.

While all else had faded - while every joy and sensation had dulled over the centuries - this terror remained sharp and exquisite. His one fire. The thing that burned him. He felt his heart racing and a hotness in his neck and palms. One hand lingered on the handle of the iron door, but for all his callused strength, for all his might and all the servants at his disposal, he could not bring himself to turn it.

The Black Tower waited below. And after fifty years away from it, the horror had not dulled.

He dropped to his knees. The suffocation drained in whimpering shudders. He pressed bandaged hands to his eyes and felt bloody tears soak through them. He couldn't do it.... he couldn't do it...

The doors at the other end of the chamber cracked. Lukesh took a breath, straightened his legs, whirled upwards, and with a savage wipe smeared the blood across his face. His features snapped to total confidence. His composure restored.

"Master Nassad and Sergeant Gwendolyn," announced a servant of the Grey Tower, who then stood back from the doorway to admit two visitors. And as the pair entered, Lukesh stepped away from the iron door and brought his breathing under control. The rap of echoing footsteps prompted his heartbeat, and by the time he met his visitors in the chamber's centre, he was the indomitable Czar once more.

"The Aviary is falling?"

To Nassad's side, the Avian mercenary, Gwendolyn, nodded sternly. Perhaps there was pain on his face. Perhaps anger. Yet it was not for the Czar. A sea of motives swirled there.

Lukesh smiled. "Your women will thank you." He turned to a table where papers were stacked. A fifty-year backlog of charters, grievances and signatory documents. His bandaged hand moved through the mess of aqueduct reports and picked out a sketching. He passed it to Nassad.

"You are no fool, Nassad. You know the slaves you bring me are not food alone. Yet all these years you have held your tongue..." He smiled and added, "... and kept your head."

The sketching was of an Anima: powerfully built and bull-horned.

"Khanaan Hardhoof, smith of the Hosian bio-ships."

Gwendolyn raised an eyebrow, and Lukesh clarified. "The Tree-Fuckers shape plants into sea vessels, by whispering sweet nothings." He looked back to Nassad as he studied the sketch. "Bring him to me, Nassad, and you will be wiping your arse with diamonds till the whores come home."

Silence held in the grey chamber. Lukesh used the time to wipe his face off with a rag of silk.

"A long journey." Gwendolyn said at last.

"You're a war hero, Gwen. You'll have plenty of tales to tell."

The Avian flinched, but said nothing, though words in torrent strained behind his lips. A part of him - the naive part - had hoped his debt was paid. Yet such things were fairy tales in the land of the Desert Sun. He met Lukesh's gaze briefly then looked away. Neither man was ecstatic about the company they would be keeping.

"If you fail, kill one another. If you are caught, slay as many Tree-Fuckers as you can. If you lose the Bull, find him, though he may hide in Hell itself."

It didn't need to be said. Nassad and Gwendolyn knew that fate was hanging over them. It was the errand of a lifetime... the penning of their histories.

Or perhaps that was just the sight of the iron door beyond the Czar's shoulder, barred and embellished with arcane inscriptions, sealing the stairway to the Black Tower.

Dorgrad

Night had come without warning in the darkness of the mine. Its only herald a drumming in the deep, a sound that made the workers sag, drop tools, and breath the sigh of another day's relief. Past fluttering posters of the lion-riding Czar, the grey men and women shuffled home. Fungus-slop meals and grey-brick barracks awaited. They would sleep away the aches, while up above the Ipari held watch against the terrors of the night.

Some had been here too long. The years of drudgery had blinded them, made them focus only on the automatic rhythm of supper and sleep. They did not see the unusual guests in the food hall that evening, or if they did they could not distinguish novelty from routine. Perhaps some could not even perceive the individual, so conditioned were they to the collective, the hive mind, the global consciousness of the Workers Paradise. Perhaps the divide between Self and Other had closed entirely, and when they looked upon Amalia and her bodyguards they saw only an extension of their selves, weird and over-imagined. Phantoms to be shaken in sleep.

No guest quarters in the city of equals. Once fed, Amalia and her delegation were taken to Barracks 75, in the north corner of Chamber Nine, where crude brick dwellings hugged a granite cliff line. A garden of ore-carts, rail tracks and rope bundles preceded it, and once inside they saw only lines of beds, stretching to the vanishing point. Each one carved with a name, the word Comrade before it. They took their place in the centre, where two dozen beds were freshly sheeted. The names on the posts had been lacquered out.

These were dead men's beds.

"Forgive the macabre note." murmured Warden Bracht as she stepped aside to let them settle. Despite her Ipari stoicism she could see Amalia's uncertainty. They had once been alike, these two women, before their stories were told. "We are not used to guests in Dorgrad. Nils will find you further bedding if you need it." She slapped the shoulder of her fellow Ipari. They had already spoken earlier. Nils would not be expected to join the surface watch. He was permitted to sleep.

As Amalia went to sit upon her straw cot, she realized why Warden Bracht was still standing. Behind her, pale faces and sullen eyes stared. The other residents of the barracks - a thousand workers in all, stood by the end of their beds and did their best to stay upright. They were waiting.

Amalia stared back.

And as before, Warden Bracht spared her. "However... there is still one custom for guests of your status..."

From the far end of the barracks, a brass horn sounded an opening note. Bracht and the workers looked to Amalia.

"It would be our honour, General, if you would lead the evening song to the glory of the Burning Czar."

 

[Zen]

Sing? The First General of Kaustir was required to sing to a crowd of workers? What happened to learning how to fight and give orders?

"Oh no no no no. I'm afraid I don't have the voice for - "

"But it's tradition," said the Warden firmly. "All guests are required to lead the evening song."

Amalia's gulp was audible in the hushed chamber. She glanced at Takeda, finding some reassurance in his gaze. As her eyes roamed over the rest of her party, a bubble of confidence swelled in her chest and for a second Amalia felt like she could do this. But that confidence quickly popped when her gaze landed on K'jol.

The bastard would no doubt gloat if she gave a bad performance.

The straw cot creaked as Amalia reluctantly stood up, back straight as a board and hands clenched to her sides. They couldn't ask me to dance or play drums. That I can do moderately well, but no I have to sing, she thought furiously to herself. Glory to the Burning Czar. After this expedition is done with, I'll ensure his ass burns for putting me through this embarrassment.

Amalia inhaled, searching through her panicked brain for the correct words.

"K-Kaustir, land that hardens our skin and our muscles. L-Land that boils our blood, strips our f-f-flessssh.

"With the sun above us, s-sand at our feet, and lava underneath. Um... A Kaustiri is a born.

"Czar that br-rought us together, Czar that made our enemies ruuuuuun, strong Desert Sun Lukessssh.

"Land that birthed us, Czar that cared for us, nation that I am sworn.

"People of Kaustiiiiiir,

"Born of fire, sand, and heat, we shall perseverrrrrrrre."

Her cheeks blossomed to match the color of her sunburn. Whatever anger and frustration she had towards the Czar and her position sunk into the rocks. It was replaced with her ever familiar insecurity and self doubt, multiplied by the many pairs of eyes watching her.

Her voice wobbled, wavered, and broke. Her pitch was off and her posture poor. Amalia did not stop to see the reaction of the people - although she would not be surprised if some were snickering - but swiftly let herself out of the sleeping quarters and into the open chamber.

"Excuse me," she muttered through averted eyes.

Everything in her body language shouted for her to be left alone. She marched away, hoping with each step she took her embarrassment would die, but it only seemed to strengthen it. Her power walk quickly turned into a run, and soon Amalia found herself alone, in a mine shaft that was empty save for handful of mine carts, and her pathetic cries to fill the space.

Takeda was wrong. It wasn't just the men who needed recovering. She did as well.

 

[Asmodeus]

As Amalia fled the barracks, there was only the briefest pause before the workers took up the song (with corrections). Warden Bracht led the stirring anthem.

"Kaustir, land that hardens muscle and skin.

Land that strips our flesh, boils blood within.

With sun above us, sand at our feet, ash in the air and lava underneath.

A KAUSTIRAN IS BORN!

Czar who brought us together, Czar who made our enemies run, strong 'gainst all weather, Lukesh the Desert Sun!

Land that birthed us, Czar who cared for us, nation to which I am sworn.

People of Kaustir, to fire, sand and heat are born!

WE SHALL PERSEVERE!"​

 

[UltimaCircuit]

K'Jol watched his General flee from the room, trying to stifle a giggle but it was futile. After the rest of the workers finished the song he let out a loud howl of laughter before shaking his head. He crossed his arms before staring in the direction of Takeda, a sly smirk upon his face.

"Aww, seems like your master is throwing a fit. Aren't you her pet or something? How about you go out there and comfort her...."

U'Sil hissed behind his ear, probably in some form of agreement. He unfolded his arms before resting his hands on his side, cracking his neck muscles. They were spending too much time on her trials and tribulations and it seemed to him that the focus of their mission was becoming less about the tablet and more about testing her.

"Being called out onto this mission was a waste! We came all the way here to just be turned back in the direction of Avarath. There wasn't even any bones to break... any skulls to crush. I didn't sign up for this job to watch over someone who is clearly incapable of leading us. Wake me up when she gets a brain and actually learns how to lead and act."

He then laid on the ground with half of his head resting against the wall. K'Jol would not move until the General displayed some form of talent if she even had any.

 

[Tone 6th]

Takeda couldn't help but feel sorry for the General... no he couldn't help but feel sorry Amalia. Being is such position was touch especially for a commoner, but she would have to live with the hand she was given. The swordsman stayed to finish the song his voice ending on a rather flat note "Blasted singing" he mumbled under his breath. The arts where not his strong suit. Takeda watched as Amalia lit up like an ember at the end of a smoldering stick. She pushed past him and began running. "General!" he took off after her but she did have a slight lead on him. He found her only by the sounds of her crying. "Amalia...." his pity was evident in his voice. He walked closer to her and bowed "It is unfitting of the General to show such weakness." he pulled out a cloth and offered it to her. "Please gather yourself." he turned away as she dried her tears. "It is time to resume your training and this is the perfect spot, away from the others away from distractions." he smiled. "I will start with a question, something I want you to think about while we train. Why did you choose to become the General?" he turned back to her and she gave him back the rag. "I don't want you to answer me until after we are finished here, simply think about your reason as to why you wanted to become not only the General, but a warrior as well." He pointed to the ground "Now five push ups and five sit ups." He grinned. While she was doing that he took off armor reviling his more casual cloths underneath. Takeda stretched and got warmed as did Amalia, mirroring what he did. "Alright lets begin." He stood next to her. "Hands up, one in front of your head and one in front of your solar plexus. Legs shoulder width apart, one foot forward and foot back, knees slightly bent. This is called rock stance or front set." He said making adjustments to Amalia's from where is was needed. Takeda pushed on her shoulders to attempt to knock her down, she tensed as she expected gravity to take over, but because of her stance she was not moved an inch. "An enemy will have a very hard time knocking you over when you are as sturdy as a bolder." He smiled at her. Amalia kind of gazed ahead, perhaps processing that she did something right. "Shall we continue? Do not be afraid to ask questions either, no question is out of bounds."