Captain Mathews leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. As much as he wanted to sleep, he knew that these scouting reports would inform every dreadful decision he would have to make in the coming hours.
"And the bridge at Anghor's Crossing?" the captain asked.
"Destroyed, sir," answered the young Sergeant Witton.
"At sunset, as ordered."
"Good." There was little joy in Mathews' voice.
"That should buy Licilla and the 32nd another day or two. And how are we faring to the northeast?"
"Not well, I'm afraid, sir. The mercenaries hired out of Kez'Karak did not perform as we had hoped. The Suns advance quickly, though it seems a portion of their forces have been slowed south and west of Caerdyd."
"Oh? Slowed by what, exactly?"
Witton flipped through a few pages of his notes until he found one particular handwritten line. He read it once, furrowed his brow, then read it again.
"Well, sir, according to Amari's report, their supply trains have been harried by... a solitary warforged."
Mathews suddenly sat upright in his chair.
"A warforged, you say? Out of Caerdyd?"
The sergeant hesitated. He wasn't sure what to make of his superior's reaction.
"Well, in the vicinity of Caerdyd. Yes, sir. Amari writes, and I quote, 'a solitary warforged of unknown origin.'"
Matthews smiled a genuine smile then, something Witton hadn't seen him do in days. The captain leaned to the side of his seat and gestured for the sergeant to take the chair beside him.
"I was about your age when I first visited Caerdyd," the captain began.
"It was my second assignment under Maeric. It's a mining town, has been for generations. And it so happens that deep in their mines grows a rare form of lichen which, when refined, can be used as a reagent in the production of a particularly potent form of poison. Forty-some-odd years ago, the Petals discovered that someone in Caerdyd had been producing large quantities of the stuff, and I was ordered to put an end to it. It should have been an easy mission. It was, actually, right up until someone collapsed a mine shaft on my head. It took me the better part of two days to dig myself out. Ruined my favorite blade in the process.
"By the time I had cleaned myself up, I was certain that whoever I was after had already fled town. So, before starting my search anew, I decided to pay a visit to the local smithy to see if he could fix my sword. Turns out, Caerdyd's blacksmith at the time was a warforged. An older model, judging by the way he spoke, but not one I recognized. The locals called him Pilgrim, and as they told it, six years had passed since he stumbled into town so badly damaged that he couldn't recall his own name, let alone where he'd been made or how he'd ended up in the eastern hills. The town's smithy at the time took him in, fixed him up, and ultimately gave him a job. Seems they got along rather well, because when the old smithy passed, he left the forge to Pilgrim.
"In any event, it looked like the warforged did good work, so I left him my broken blade and went back to my room to get some rest. I was so sore that I'm pretty sure I could have slept for days. But instead, I woke up early the next morning to a gods awful commotion out in the hallway. So I grabbed my boot knife, dragged my aching body to the door, and there out in the hallway was Pilgrim. And right beside him, pinned to the wall by his own poisoned dagger, was a miner-turned-alchemist by the name of Uriel. Uriel had enough poison hidden under his floorboards to kill everyone in Caerdyd a hundred times over."
Captain Matthews stood and stepped over to the window.
"I went back to Caerdyd a handful of times over the years. Sometimes because I was in need of a strong arm, and other times because I wanted Pilgrim to make me something new. But then Alana was born and I got promoted to desk duty...." He sighed.
"It's been more than twenty years now. I guess I shouldn't be surprised he's still out there."
Without turning from the window, Matthews continued to address Witton, who stood immediately.
"Sergeant, I want you to get word to Wayfinder Amari. She is to immediately locate and confirm the identity of that warforged. If she can accomplish this in the next 24 hours, then the bottle of Sezzarian Red on the shelf in my office is hers. Wake your best rider, then tell the stablemaster that he is to ready his swiftest horse. I will speak to Illya about requisitioning a scroll of teleport."
"Aye, sir!" Witton saluted, then hurried off his tasks.
Captain Matthews watched as the first rays of dawn began to rise above the horizon.
"Better late than never, right, old friend?"
Re: Rose Petals Rerecruitment [3.5 seeking players]
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