Shadhemir arrived at the Stormwind Keep dressed in his finery and wearing his father’s sword. The guards at the front doors greeted him cautiously, sending a paige for approval to let him in. They explained that with all the rumors floating around the city that security had been tightened recently. A few moments later, the paige returned and informed the guards that the warrior was indeed expected. With a nod, the guards separated and allowed Shadhemir to pass into the keep.
Shad made his way into the great room near the front of the building. Several men were standing inside, talking about recent events. The warrior eventually managed to pick out Count Ridgewell from the crowd and caught his eye. The Count said a few words to the other men before he broke away from the group and approached Shadhemir.
“Lord Shadhemir. Thank you for coming. I hope you and the Lady Shadhemir are doing well.”
“We enjoy good health, my lord,” Shadhemir answered with a bow. Count Ridgewell offered his own bow in return. “I hope to find you in the same circumstances.”
“You do, sir. My lady wife and I are doing well. You have had time to think over the offer at this point, yes?”
“I have, but I do have a question or two left if I may?”
“Of course.”
“What exactly would my duties be as leader of this platoon?”
“Well,” the count began. “Of course you would be responsible to the crown should they need you. With this position comes the rank of lieutenant and you would command a platoon of 25 men, counting the sergeant who would assist you. As such, should the need arise, you would be considered part of his Highnesses’ military but that almost never results in anything difficult.” The count gave a slight shrug. “In the past, the platoon has performed mostly ceremonial work. They would provide escort to dignitaries. On occasion, they have been used to help provide security or crowd control at royal functions.”
“They are stationed here in Stormwind then?”
“Definitely. The platoon lives in the barracks here. You do not have to fear of suddenly being stationed in Northrend of Draenor.”
“That is good. I do not think the Lady Shadhemir would be pleased after having just finished building our home here.”
“Of course. Did you have any other questions?”
“No, that fairly well covered me thoughts.”
“Then you have made a decision?”
“You do realize,” Shadhemir began, “that I have no military training whatsoever.”
“We do. But after having spoken with your previous employers, we’ve learned that you are level-minded and quick-witted in difficult situations. That you are generally seen as a good man and a loyal friend. You will have a sergeant who is quite capable to advise you and men who, should you treat them fairly, will follow you fairly as well. And you come with high praise from Anders Germaine.”
“Of course,” Shadhemir smirked as Count Ridgewell confirmed his suspicion about the trainer. “Then sir, I will accept the offer.”
“Excellent,” Count Ridgwell said with a smile. “If you can wait for a few minutes longer, I will conclude my business here and take you to meet your men. You do own a suit of armor, yes?”
“I do. But I suspect that I will need to invest in better.”
It's a really good/bad thing that my periods are ending I'm probably going to miss my opportunity to smear menstrual blood on a guys forehead and go "SIMBA"
Grantaire was seated opposite another man at a marble-topped table scattered with dominoes. He was banging on the marble with his fist, and this was what Enjolras overheard:
"Double six."
"Four."
"Blast! I can't go."
"You'll have to pass. A two."
"A six."
And so on. Grantaire was wholly absorbed in the game.
Victor Hugo, Les Misérables, in which Enjolras decides to stop and see if Grantaire has followed through on a task.
