Role

Chapter 2

Successful only in his escape, Mardrin returns to an empty, decimated
Village. He sighs deeply, angry with the Commander for not doing his job,
angry with Bartis for leaving, angry with the Imperial scum... but mostly
angry with himself, and his failure.

"Take heart, BattleRager," a melodic, timeless voice speaks as the graceful
form of Yean fades into view. Trailing not far behind is Borkhad, a menacing
sneer on the Warlord's face. "Join the Bastion and I in the War Room."

The three talk for a time, drinking beer brewed by Yean herself. The two
immortal Lords of Battle share stories of yore with Mardrin. In part it is to
inspire, and in part to test his knowledge of history and tactics. As the
conversation passes from minutes into hours and the empty beer bottles begin
to form unwieldy piles, the talks turn from stories and casual questions to a
full on interrogation.

"And what Mardin do," says Borkahd menacingly, "about orc attacking Village?"

Then Yean, "Should a Scout have parity as a Berserker?"'

On and on they prod him until finally Yean calls the talks to a halt. With a
satisfied, sublime smile she says, "Mardrin, I give you the charge of;role + rebuilding this Village. Go and make soldiers. Good ones."

"It'll be done. Yer got me promise," Mardrin oaths.

"Very well, Drillmaster." The words are an appointment, and with them Yean
hands over an ancient and powerful weapon that is able to shape itself into
any form on command. "Take this," she says, "you are going to need it."