“Either you welcome those to return with success warmly, or you’d be setting a bad example that would turn people away from yourself.” - Old mercenary saying.
“Good work,” said Reinhardt as he walked over to welcome the returning platoons just outside the fort. There was more than a little pride in his voice when he saw his daughter’s platoon return with over half a dozen captives, since the majority of the raiders that escaped the ambushes he set together with Lars had gone towards her, and he was more than pleased to see that not even a single member of his girl’s platoon was even injured in the process.
“Thanks, dad,” said Erycea as she nodded to her father’s welcome. Her platoon had moved efficiently, and already handed their captives over to an officer from the fort, while the rest had split up. Some went to the mercenary encampment to relax, while others followed Aurora as she deposited the butchered carcasses of a couple dozen horses over to the quartermaster of the fort.
The meat had been left unpreserved for over a day, but otherwise it was most likely still good for eating, and the cooks of the fort would not shy from using them for the night’s dinner either, like most cooks associated with militaries. They had long learned to make full use of whatever was available at hand instead of being picky.
“Go fetch yourself some slop off the kitchens, it’s about time for lunch anyway,” said Reinhardt to his daughter after he gave her another affectionate tussle of the hair. Unlike him, Erycea’s half-human heritage meant that the fur at the top and back of her head grew particularly fast and gave her a semblance of human hair, which the girl kept relatively short other than a long, slim tail of hair she had kept around since her childhood, which reached most of the way down her back these days.
“Gotcha, be seeing you later then, dad!” said Erycea as she bumped his fist and walked towards the mess hall together with some others from her platoon. The decision to allow Erycea to lead her own platoon from the get go had not been an easy one for those in command to agree to, but some extraneous circumstances eventually got everyone involved to agree to the arrangement.
For one, the Free Lances, as a mercenary company, had always been a family business, with the leadership handed down the Edelstein family since its inception. Sure, Reinhardt himself was just the third generation of leaders down that line, and he was adopted, but none of the other older mercenaries that had survived Theodinaz, a few of which had even served with Ingrid’s father, the founder and first leader of the Company, had dissented when he took command.
As such, they were naturally of the opinion that when the time came, it would only be natural for the Company’s leadership to pass down from Reinhardt to his daughter Erycea, and they viewed her getting command experience from early on in her career to be a good thing as a result.
The other reason was because the youngsters who had been part of Erycea’s original group had all already viewed her as their leader, the affectionate nickname of “lil’ boss” one used partly in deference to her leadership. It would have probably caused more trouble than it was worth to force them to separate to different groups when they had spent so long a time working alongside each other like that.
Which was how Erycea was made platoon commander, over nearly seventy fellow rookies, all at a tender age of fourteen.
After Reinhardt finished the few arrangements and confirmations he needed to do - to double check with the fort’s commander about the captives and report their salvage and so onwards, various administrative things that a commander needed to do - he paid a visit to the mess hall to see Erycea and her friends crowded around one of the long tables.
Before them were bowls of what the fort’s kitchen served, a simple military ration that the cooks at the fort nevertheless managed to make pleasant enough to taste. Barley, wheat, and chickpeas - all crops commonly grown in Jonkver - was cooked until it turned into a thick porridge, with plenty of spices to give it flavor, as well as fresh vegetables or bone broth when they were available.
Meat was a relative luxury on the frontlines, other than the preserved sort, due to the difficulties involved in keeping fresh meat unspoiled. As such, occasions like when Ery’s group brought the edible carcasses of over two dozen horses were not wasted by the cooks in the fort’s kitchen, who promised to cook up a lavish, meaty dinner for everyone that night, since for once they had plenty of meat to ply their trade with.
While the young mercenaries had discarded the organs - there were no place to clean them in the vicinity of their ambush spot, and besides, organs spoiled quickly - the meat from the carcasses was still plenty to feed everyone present in the fort, with a good amount of extras which would later be preserved for future rations.
Some cultures abhor the idea of eating horse meat, but Posuin wasn’t one of those, and besides, given the poor conditions of the battlefront since the Duchy of Jonkver were having economic difficulties, any sort of meat - as long as it did not use to be a person - was welcome to the soldiers who lived there.
To say that there was an increase of morale that night at the sight of large racks of roasted ribs - the meat was rather tough, since the horses were workhorses, but nobody minded that little inconvenience over the thought of having actual meat for a change - was an understatement.
Reinhardt and Erycea had not even felt that the meat was tough, since their jaws and teeth were stronger than the humans, and happily gnawed around the rib bones as they picked it clean of every bit of meat attached to it. For once, an atmosphere of celebration filled Fort Kazka.
“Either you welcome those to return with success warmly, or you’d be setting a bad example that would turn people away from yourself.” - Old mercenary saying.
“Good work,” said Reinhardt as he walked over to welcome the returning platoons just outside the fort. There was more than a little pride in his voice when he saw his daughter’s platoon return with over half a dozen captives, since the majority of the raiders that escaped the ambushes he set together with Lars had gone towards her, and he was more than pleased to see that not even a single member of his girl’s platoon was even injured in the process.
“Thanks, dad,” said Erycea as she nodded to her father’s welcome. Her platoon had moved efficiently, and already handed their captives over to an officer from the fort, while the rest had split up. Some went to the mercenary encampment to relax, while others followed Aurora as she deposited the butchered carcasses of a couple dozen horses over to the quartermaster of the fort.
The meat had been left unpreserved for over a day, but otherwise it was most likely still good for eating, and the cooks of the fort would not shy from using them for the night’s dinner either, like most cooks associated with militaries. They had long learned to make full use of whatever was available at hand instead of being picky.
“Go fetch yourself some slop off the kitchens, it’s about time for lunch anyway,” said Reinhardt to his daughter after he gave her another affectionate tussle of the hair. Unlike him, Erycea’s half-human heritage meant that the fur at the top and back of her head grew particularly fast and gave her a semblance of human hair, which the girl kept relatively short other than a long, slim tail of hair she had kept around since her childhood, which reached most of the way down her back these days.
“Gotcha, be seeing you later then, dad!” said Erycea as she bumped his fist and walked towards the mess hall together with some others from her platoon. The decision to allow Erycea to lead her own platoon from the get go had not been an easy one for those in command to agree to, but some extraneous circumstances eventually got everyone involved to agree to the arrangement.
For one, the Free Lances, as a mercenary company, had always been a family business, with the leadership handed down the Edelstein family since its inception. Sure, Reinhardt himself was just the third generation of leaders down that line, and he was adopted, but none of the other older mercenaries that had survived Theodinaz, a few of which had even served with Ingrid’s father, the founder and first leader of the Company, had dissented when he took command.
As such, they were naturally of the opinion that when the time came, it would only be natural for the Company’s leadership to pass down from Reinhardt to his daughter Erycea, and they viewed her getting command experience from early on in her career to be a good thing as a result.
The other reason was because the youngsters who had been part of Erycea’s original group had all already viewed her as their leader, the affectionate nickname of “lil’ boss” one used partly in deference to her leadership. It would have probably caused more trouble than it was worth to force them to separate to different groups when they had spent so long a time working alongside each other like that.
Which was how Erycea was made platoon commander, over nearly seventy fellow rookies, all at a tender age of fourteen.
After Reinhardt finished the few arrangements and confirmations he needed to do - to double check with the fort’s commander about the captives and report their salvage and so onwards, various administrative things that a commander needed to do - he paid a visit to the mess hall to see Erycea and her friends crowded around one of the long tables.
Before them were bowls of what the fort’s kitchen served, a simple military ration that the cooks at the fort nevertheless managed to make pleasant enough to taste. Barley, wheat, and chickpeas - all crops commonly grown in Jonkver - was cooked until it turned into a thick porridge, with plenty of spices to give it flavor, as well as fresh vegetables or bone broth when they were available.
Meat was a relative luxury on the frontlines, other than the preserved sort, due to the difficulties involved in keeping fresh meat unspoiled. As such, occasions like when Ery’s group brought the edible carcasses of over two dozen horses were not wasted by the cooks in the fort’s kitchen, who promised to cook up a lavish, meaty dinner for everyone that night, since for once they had plenty of meat to ply their trade with.
While the young mercenaries had discarded the organs - there were no place to clean them in the vicinity of their ambush spot, and besides, organs spoiled quickly - the meat from the carcasses was still plenty to feed everyone present in the fort, with a good amount of extras which would later be preserved for future rations.
Some cultures abhor the idea of eating horse meat, but Posuin wasn’t one of those, and besides, given the poor conditions of the battlefront since the Duchy of Jonkver were having economic difficulties, any sort of meat - as long as it did not use to be a person - was welcome to the soldiers who lived there.
To say that there was an increase of morale that night at the sight of large racks of roasted ribs - the meat was rather tough, since the horses were workhorses, but nobody minded that little inconvenience over the thought of having actual meat for a change - was an understatement.
Reinhardt and Erycea had not even felt that the meat was tough, since their jaws and teeth were stronger than the humans, and happily gnawed around the rib bones as they picked it clean of every bit of meat attached to it. For once, an atmosphere of celebration filled Fort Kazka.
