It felt better than it perhaps should have to be out of the damn office for a while.
Leon was grateful, actually, that his duties included supervising the training of the troops as often as possible. The Lions' lieutenants, and, if he were being honest, even their non-officer members, were exceptionally well-trained even for professionals, and so they could do a lot of the teaching and drilling in his absence, but he refused to shut himself away in a building all day out of the reach of most of his people and pretend like being here, where they could see him, wasnāt important. He much preferred dealing with soldiers to dealing with either diplomats or spies anyway, and that was in part exactly why he had the role within the organization that he did.
Currently, he was only observing drills; he suspected he might be coaxed into some kind of informal spar later, but for the moment, it was more important that he get a better sense of how they were doing. Down in the ranks, Hissrad and Donnelly were shouting drill commands, which the men and women under their supervision followed with varying degrees of competence and accuracy. They were already looking better than they had a month ago, and he told Cor, standing to his left, as much. To his right, Reed nodded an agreement.
āWellā¦ theyāve been working hard,ā the young elf replied, shifting his weight slightly from one leg to the other. Another thing that seemed to hold fairly universally of the Lions was that they were quick to give others as much of the credit as they could for anything, be that shifting praise between themselves or putting it at the feet of their trainees. It was an admirable sort of humility, but almost disconcerting to find so universally over what was otherwise a very diverse group of people. He wondered if theyād all picked it up from their own commander or if heād simply selected them in the first place because they had it. Still, sans Estella, there was a quiet confidence to each of them, a sense that they knew that they were skilled and valuable, but refused to make any noise about it.
It made them incredibly easy to work with.
āThey have,ā Leon agreed with a smile. It was hard not to, perhaps, when the Breach was still there in the sky and no one else in the world seemed to have half an idea what to do about it. āBut theyāve been instructed well, also, else their hard work would not have achieved so much.ā Cor pursed his lips, but nodded with what appeared to be some reluctance.
āWeāre working hard, too,ā he admitted, glancing over and up at Leon. āSheās one of ours, after all; we canāt not help her. Plus, Liaās with you guys now, and after that whole thing with the scouts...ā He grimaced. It was obvious that Cor held a great deal of affection for both of his friends, and the sentiment was more than likely shared by the other two as well.
Leon hummed thoughtfully. āI know our supplies yet leave much to be desired, but is there anything in particular you think you need?ā
Cor exhaled through his nose. āHelp?ā Thinning his mouth, he explained further. āOur squads can help a little, when they see a line-mate doing something wrong, but we donāt want to disrupt your command structure too much by having troops ordering each other around. And if you take our twenty out of the equation, thereās only three of us, some spare people with previous mercenary or military experience, andā¦ well, thatās it. Itās fewer than ten people running drills for whatās eventually going to be an army.ā
And that was indeed where the personnel problem was hitting them the hardest: mid-level officers. Leon himself was doing most of what heād usually have captains and up do, but the burdens of lieutenants fell on the scarce volunteers they had with command experience, and it was bound to wear them as it wore him. Thinking of that brought to the forefront again the massive migraine he could feel building in the back of his head, and he sighed. āYouāre right. Start picking out troops with a knack for the drills. I at least need to promote you some sergeants.ā He couldnāt ask them to keep doing all this work for the pittance he was currently able to pay them.
Nearby, Leon could hear the telltale clacking of two wooden practice swords bouncing off of each other. Not too far away, but away from the main body of troops, a man was practicing with a boy. The man, Ser Michaƫl, a Chevalier and Lady Marceline's husband, was sparring with their son, Pierre. Michaƫl bore his full plate backed by a purple and black cloak that seemed to be the BenoƮt house colors. He easily held off his son with a single practice sword in one hand, while the boy struggled with two hands.
Michaƫl had been giving his son encouragement and guidance, but had quieted when Cor spoke. Though his attentions seemed to be held on the conversation they were having, the spar with Pierre continued, though he was still able to effortlessly hold the boy off. At least, until Leon finished his last sentence. A surprised yelp cut the air then, and Pierre's sword was in the snow, with Michaƫl's own pressed gently against the boy's shoulder. The man gave his son an apologetic look, before he laughed.
"I will make a Chevalier out of you yet. Come," he said, tusseling the boy's hair and shouldering his sword. His hand fell to the boy's shoulder and they finally made their way to Leon.
"Commander Leonhardt?" He asked, "If I may suggest something?"
Leon turned his attention to MichaĆ«l in full at that point, rather than half-observing the training as he had been before, and lifted a brow. āOf course, Ser MichaĆ«l. You have a recommendation?ā While technically speaking, the chevalier was outside the Inquisitionās command structure, Leon had never seen the harm in a second opinion, especially one from someone well-trained in martial matters, as was all of present company, excluding, of course, the lad.
Michaƫl smiled and nodded before he began "Perhaps I may be able to allievate your problem somewhat. I am a Lieutenant for the Chevaliers, with knowledge of their tactics and training methods. Methods I sometime see the Lions utilize in their own regiments," he said with a warm smile for Cor. Michaƫl then placed a hand on his hip, and noticably puffed his chest out, though a playfulness remained in his green eyes. "I would offer my services, if you have need of them, Commander."
The boy next to him simply shook his head, and looked to Leon with a wry smile. "Please. Let him help. When father gets bored, he uses me as an excuse to train," Pierre explained. Michaƫl said nothing in turn, but his chest sagged in response to the comment. The sword on his shoulder then shifted however, and reached across to tap the boy lightly on top of the head, a smile on his lips the whole time.
Leonās violet eyes picked up a glimmer of amusement at Pierreās words, and he spoke partly to both of them. āIt would seem I have little choice, in that case.ā His gaze shifted up to MichaĆ«l. āIn truth, I would be grateful for the assistance. As, I am sure, would the Lions.ā
Corās smile was much more obvious evidence of the fact that he was entertained than anything on Leonās face, and he crossed his arms over his chest. āI donāt know about that. To hear the commander tell it, Ser MichaĆ«l, your methods havenāt improved much since your days of tripping in formation when there were pretty girls around.ā It was clearly an inside joke of some sort, a reference that Leon didnāt have, but from the sounds of things, the Lions would work quite well with Lord BenoĆ®tās help, which, while it would not alleviate the growing pains the Inquisition experienced, would at least go partway there.
Cor's joke however, took the rest of the air out of Michaƫl's chest. Instead of puffing himself out, he hid his face with his hand, and rubbed his eyes. He said nothing at first, only muttering, "Lucien," under his breath. Pierre also laughed at the joke, but turned away from his father so that he could not see, no doubt lest he risk another tap to the head.
Michaƫl waved his hand in the air, and said, "I deny everything."
"You can try, love, but that does not mean it is not true," a voice cooed from behind them. It was Lady Marceline's, who came from the road leading back to Haven proper, with Larissa close beside her. Larissa carried a clipboard in hand, but was currently not writing anything. She was, however, laughing gently. "I apologize," Marceline told Cor as she pulled up beside her husband. "I believe I am cause of that," she added, leaning up against him.
Michaƫl for his part, said nothing and continued to look out over the horizon, as if trying to pretend nothing was happening.
āNo fault of yours, Lady Marceline,ā Cor replied easily, with a modest bow. It was clear enough that he and she had met on a previous occasion, probably through the Lionsā commander. āAnd it does seem to have worked out for the better, no?ā
Leonās attention was temporarily drawn away from the byplay by the approach of another, however, and he found himself straightening a little bit unconsciously. He wondered if she was here toā¦?
Khari, whoād been marching not unlike a chevalier herself, slowed slightly upon spotting the group, or perhaps the size of it. At one point, she almost stopped, but then seemed to think better of that and soldiered on until she was standing in front of the lot of them. There was a moment where she looked like she was thinking, and then she dipped herself at the waist. āUhā¦ hey commanderā¦ everyone.ā She grinned, nodded to Cor and Reed, glanced back and forth between Marceline, MichaĆ«l, and Pierre, and then settled her eyes on Leon himself.
āI had a question: does anyone around here have likeā¦ glassware and retorts and alembics and stuff? Like for potions? Fancier than the local alchemist, I mean?ā She raised a hand to scratch at the back of her head, pulling her red braid over her shoulder on the way back. She was without most of her usual gear at the moment, which made her take up a lot less space than usual, and she seemed conscious of the fact that discounting Pierre, she was by far the shortest person in present company.
Leon wasnāt sure what the purpose behind the question was, but he wasnāt exactly sure he wanted to ask. The smile on Khariās face always looked like trouble to him, and while he was mostly sure she wouldnāt do anything damaging, there were perhaps things heād be better off knowing about only in the event he needed to do something about them. āRilien would have equipment like that, if Iām not mistaken,ā he replied. The Tranquil was an alchemist of surpassing talent, among his many other virtues and useful skills.
A thought struck him, then, and he angled himself slightly differently. āKhari, I donāt believe youāve met the other BenoĆ®ts. Lady Marceline you know, but Ser MichaĆ«l is a lieutenant with the chevaliers, and Pierre here is their son. MichaĆ«l, Pierre, this is Khari. Sheās one of our irregulars.ā That was what heād settled on calling the volunteers and recruits who didnāt work inside the usual armed force structure.
At precisely the moment Leon had enunciated the word āchevalier,ā Khari had stood ramrod straight, her full attention clearly fixed on the introduction, and if possible, the haphazard grin on her face widened, until she may have been showing a few too many teeth. āChevalier, huh?ā To her credit, she acknowledged Pierre to a greater extent than most would note the presence of a child, but it was clear where the majority of her attention had diverted. āBear mauls the wolves or tower in a storm? Because if youāre a tower person, weāre gonna have a problem, you and I.ā The way she said it gave the lie to the last sentence; she was clearly extremely excited to be talking to a chevalier, apparently to the exclusion of taking to the rest of them.
"Bear mauls the wolves, of course. Shields just get in the way," Michaƫl said chuckling with a grin of his own. Then he stopped and glanced over to Cor and Leon, his face settling into an awkward look. "Er... Not literally of course. I understand the value of a good shield wall," he explained.
Pierre simply rolled his eyes and huffed, which earned him another tap to the top of the head with the practice sword.
Leon sighed softly, shaking his head and leaving the two of them to their tactical discussions, as it were. He diverted his attention to Marceline, who probably wasnāt out here in the cold to watch the troops practice. āIs there something I can help you with, milady?ā
"Yes, Ser Leonhardt," Lady Marceline replied. If she seemed at all perturbed by the tactical discussion being carried on by her husband, she did not show it. In fact, by the way she carried herself, it seemed as if she dealt with it often enough. Glancing first at Khari, and then the rest of the troops, she turned back to Leon. "I would ask for access to detailed personel reports on the individuals serving the Inquisition," she said.
Larissa then went to her clipboard and began to write something, though Leon could not see what. "In return, Larissa and I will pen letters to some of our contacts in order to obtain more experienced soldiers to fill your needs," She said, glancing to the woman beside her, already hard at work.
There were far too many individuals to assemble more than basic dossiers based on the standard forms each volunteer had dictated to Reed or Tanith upon his or her entrance into the Inquisition, with things like next-of-kin information and the like, but he supposed more than that might be in order for the officers and irregulars, at least, so with some reluctance, he inclined his head. It would probably mean even more hours in the office, but the idea had relevance, and they really could use any more people those letters might gain them.
āVery well. I will see what I can assemble in the next few days to that effect. Cor, if you would be so kind as to poll the others and get names for likely sergeants, Iāll try to run a round of minor promotions within a fortnight.ā The pressure at the back of his head felt like it was ratcheting up to become a full-blown tension headache, but he ignored it for now. Rilien would have something for that, or else heād just work through it. He had before.
There just usually wasnāt quite so much at stake.
Leon was grateful, actually, that his duties included supervising the training of the troops as often as possible. The Lions' lieutenants, and, if he were being honest, even their non-officer members, were exceptionally well-trained even for professionals, and so they could do a lot of the teaching and drilling in his absence, but he refused to shut himself away in a building all day out of the reach of most of his people and pretend like being here, where they could see him, wasnāt important. He much preferred dealing with soldiers to dealing with either diplomats or spies anyway, and that was in part exactly why he had the role within the organization that he did.
Currently, he was only observing drills; he suspected he might be coaxed into some kind of informal spar later, but for the moment, it was more important that he get a better sense of how they were doing. Down in the ranks, Hissrad and Donnelly were shouting drill commands, which the men and women under their supervision followed with varying degrees of competence and accuracy. They were already looking better than they had a month ago, and he told Cor, standing to his left, as much. To his right, Reed nodded an agreement.
āWellā¦ theyāve been working hard,ā the young elf replied, shifting his weight slightly from one leg to the other. Another thing that seemed to hold fairly universally of the Lions was that they were quick to give others as much of the credit as they could for anything, be that shifting praise between themselves or putting it at the feet of their trainees. It was an admirable sort of humility, but almost disconcerting to find so universally over what was otherwise a very diverse group of people. He wondered if theyād all picked it up from their own commander or if heād simply selected them in the first place because they had it. Still, sans Estella, there was a quiet confidence to each of them, a sense that they knew that they were skilled and valuable, but refused to make any noise about it.
It made them incredibly easy to work with.
āThey have,ā Leon agreed with a smile. It was hard not to, perhaps, when the Breach was still there in the sky and no one else in the world seemed to have half an idea what to do about it. āBut theyāve been instructed well, also, else their hard work would not have achieved so much.ā Cor pursed his lips, but nodded with what appeared to be some reluctance.
āWeāre working hard, too,ā he admitted, glancing over and up at Leon. āSheās one of ours, after all; we canāt not help her. Plus, Liaās with you guys now, and after that whole thing with the scouts...ā He grimaced. It was obvious that Cor held a great deal of affection for both of his friends, and the sentiment was more than likely shared by the other two as well.
Leon hummed thoughtfully. āI know our supplies yet leave much to be desired, but is there anything in particular you think you need?ā
Cor exhaled through his nose. āHelp?ā Thinning his mouth, he explained further. āOur squads can help a little, when they see a line-mate doing something wrong, but we donāt want to disrupt your command structure too much by having troops ordering each other around. And if you take our twenty out of the equation, thereās only three of us, some spare people with previous mercenary or military experience, andā¦ well, thatās it. Itās fewer than ten people running drills for whatās eventually going to be an army.ā
And that was indeed where the personnel problem was hitting them the hardest: mid-level officers. Leon himself was doing most of what heād usually have captains and up do, but the burdens of lieutenants fell on the scarce volunteers they had with command experience, and it was bound to wear them as it wore him. Thinking of that brought to the forefront again the massive migraine he could feel building in the back of his head, and he sighed. āYouāre right. Start picking out troops with a knack for the drills. I at least need to promote you some sergeants.ā He couldnāt ask them to keep doing all this work for the pittance he was currently able to pay them.
Nearby, Leon could hear the telltale clacking of two wooden practice swords bouncing off of each other. Not too far away, but away from the main body of troops, a man was practicing with a boy. The man, Ser Michaƫl, a Chevalier and Lady Marceline's husband, was sparring with their son, Pierre. Michaƫl bore his full plate backed by a purple and black cloak that seemed to be the BenoƮt house colors. He easily held off his son with a single practice sword in one hand, while the boy struggled with two hands.
Michaƫl had been giving his son encouragement and guidance, but had quieted when Cor spoke. Though his attentions seemed to be held on the conversation they were having, the spar with Pierre continued, though he was still able to effortlessly hold the boy off. At least, until Leon finished his last sentence. A surprised yelp cut the air then, and Pierre's sword was in the snow, with Michaƫl's own pressed gently against the boy's shoulder. The man gave his son an apologetic look, before he laughed.
"I will make a Chevalier out of you yet. Come," he said, tusseling the boy's hair and shouldering his sword. His hand fell to the boy's shoulder and they finally made their way to Leon.
"Commander Leonhardt?" He asked, "If I may suggest something?"
Leon turned his attention to MichaĆ«l in full at that point, rather than half-observing the training as he had been before, and lifted a brow. āOf course, Ser MichaĆ«l. You have a recommendation?ā While technically speaking, the chevalier was outside the Inquisitionās command structure, Leon had never seen the harm in a second opinion, especially one from someone well-trained in martial matters, as was all of present company, excluding, of course, the lad.
Michaƫl smiled and nodded before he began "Perhaps I may be able to allievate your problem somewhat. I am a Lieutenant for the Chevaliers, with knowledge of their tactics and training methods. Methods I sometime see the Lions utilize in their own regiments," he said with a warm smile for Cor. Michaƫl then placed a hand on his hip, and noticably puffed his chest out, though a playfulness remained in his green eyes. "I would offer my services, if you have need of them, Commander."
The boy next to him simply shook his head, and looked to Leon with a wry smile. "Please. Let him help. When father gets bored, he uses me as an excuse to train," Pierre explained. Michaƫl said nothing in turn, but his chest sagged in response to the comment. The sword on his shoulder then shifted however, and reached across to tap the boy lightly on top of the head, a smile on his lips the whole time.
Leonās violet eyes picked up a glimmer of amusement at Pierreās words, and he spoke partly to both of them. āIt would seem I have little choice, in that case.ā His gaze shifted up to MichaĆ«l. āIn truth, I would be grateful for the assistance. As, I am sure, would the Lions.ā
Corās smile was much more obvious evidence of the fact that he was entertained than anything on Leonās face, and he crossed his arms over his chest. āI donāt know about that. To hear the commander tell it, Ser MichaĆ«l, your methods havenāt improved much since your days of tripping in formation when there were pretty girls around.ā It was clearly an inside joke of some sort, a reference that Leon didnāt have, but from the sounds of things, the Lions would work quite well with Lord BenoĆ®tās help, which, while it would not alleviate the growing pains the Inquisition experienced, would at least go partway there.
Cor's joke however, took the rest of the air out of Michaƫl's chest. Instead of puffing himself out, he hid his face with his hand, and rubbed his eyes. He said nothing at first, only muttering, "Lucien," under his breath. Pierre also laughed at the joke, but turned away from his father so that he could not see, no doubt lest he risk another tap to the head.
Michaƫl waved his hand in the air, and said, "I deny everything."
"You can try, love, but that does not mean it is not true," a voice cooed from behind them. It was Lady Marceline's, who came from the road leading back to Haven proper, with Larissa close beside her. Larissa carried a clipboard in hand, but was currently not writing anything. She was, however, laughing gently. "I apologize," Marceline told Cor as she pulled up beside her husband. "I believe I am cause of that," she added, leaning up against him.
Michaƫl for his part, said nothing and continued to look out over the horizon, as if trying to pretend nothing was happening.
āNo fault of yours, Lady Marceline,ā Cor replied easily, with a modest bow. It was clear enough that he and she had met on a previous occasion, probably through the Lionsā commander. āAnd it does seem to have worked out for the better, no?ā
Leonās attention was temporarily drawn away from the byplay by the approach of another, however, and he found himself straightening a little bit unconsciously. He wondered if she was here toā¦?
Khari, whoād been marching not unlike a chevalier herself, slowed slightly upon spotting the group, or perhaps the size of it. At one point, she almost stopped, but then seemed to think better of that and soldiered on until she was standing in front of the lot of them. There was a moment where she looked like she was thinking, and then she dipped herself at the waist. āUhā¦ hey commanderā¦ everyone.ā She grinned, nodded to Cor and Reed, glanced back and forth between Marceline, MichaĆ«l, and Pierre, and then settled her eyes on Leon himself.
āI had a question: does anyone around here have likeā¦ glassware and retorts and alembics and stuff? Like for potions? Fancier than the local alchemist, I mean?ā She raised a hand to scratch at the back of her head, pulling her red braid over her shoulder on the way back. She was without most of her usual gear at the moment, which made her take up a lot less space than usual, and she seemed conscious of the fact that discounting Pierre, she was by far the shortest person in present company.
Leon wasnāt sure what the purpose behind the question was, but he wasnāt exactly sure he wanted to ask. The smile on Khariās face always looked like trouble to him, and while he was mostly sure she wouldnāt do anything damaging, there were perhaps things heād be better off knowing about only in the event he needed to do something about them. āRilien would have equipment like that, if Iām not mistaken,ā he replied. The Tranquil was an alchemist of surpassing talent, among his many other virtues and useful skills.
A thought struck him, then, and he angled himself slightly differently. āKhari, I donāt believe youāve met the other BenoĆ®ts. Lady Marceline you know, but Ser MichaĆ«l is a lieutenant with the chevaliers, and Pierre here is their son. MichaĆ«l, Pierre, this is Khari. Sheās one of our irregulars.ā That was what heād settled on calling the volunteers and recruits who didnāt work inside the usual armed force structure.
At precisely the moment Leon had enunciated the word āchevalier,ā Khari had stood ramrod straight, her full attention clearly fixed on the introduction, and if possible, the haphazard grin on her face widened, until she may have been showing a few too many teeth. āChevalier, huh?ā To her credit, she acknowledged Pierre to a greater extent than most would note the presence of a child, but it was clear where the majority of her attention had diverted. āBear mauls the wolves or tower in a storm? Because if youāre a tower person, weāre gonna have a problem, you and I.ā The way she said it gave the lie to the last sentence; she was clearly extremely excited to be talking to a chevalier, apparently to the exclusion of taking to the rest of them.
"Bear mauls the wolves, of course. Shields just get in the way," Michaƫl said chuckling with a grin of his own. Then he stopped and glanced over to Cor and Leon, his face settling into an awkward look. "Er... Not literally of course. I understand the value of a good shield wall," he explained.
Pierre simply rolled his eyes and huffed, which earned him another tap to the top of the head with the practice sword.
Leon sighed softly, shaking his head and leaving the two of them to their tactical discussions, as it were. He diverted his attention to Marceline, who probably wasnāt out here in the cold to watch the troops practice. āIs there something I can help you with, milady?ā
"Yes, Ser Leonhardt," Lady Marceline replied. If she seemed at all perturbed by the tactical discussion being carried on by her husband, she did not show it. In fact, by the way she carried herself, it seemed as if she dealt with it often enough. Glancing first at Khari, and then the rest of the troops, she turned back to Leon. "I would ask for access to detailed personel reports on the individuals serving the Inquisition," she said.
Larissa then went to her clipboard and began to write something, though Leon could not see what. "In return, Larissa and I will pen letters to some of our contacts in order to obtain more experienced soldiers to fill your needs," She said, glancing to the woman beside her, already hard at work.
There were far too many individuals to assemble more than basic dossiers based on the standard forms each volunteer had dictated to Reed or Tanith upon his or her entrance into the Inquisition, with things like next-of-kin information and the like, but he supposed more than that might be in order for the officers and irregulars, at least, so with some reluctance, he inclined his head. It would probably mean even more hours in the office, but the idea had relevance, and they really could use any more people those letters might gain them.
āVery well. I will see what I can assemble in the next few days to that effect. Cor, if you would be so kind as to poll the others and get names for likely sergeants, Iāll try to run a round of minor promotions within a fortnight.ā The pressure at the back of his head felt like it was ratcheting up to become a full-blown tension headache, but he ignored it for now. Rilien would have something for that, or else heād just work through it. He had before.
There just usually wasnāt quite so much at stake.