Ready to head out

“I suppose that means we’re through, Squire Lavender. I don’t know if you’re fated to be the squire from the prophecy, but put that out of your mind– the best a man can do is that the creator asks of him. You’ve trained, you’ve succeeded in my estimation, and now, you take your place with six suitors. It is a strange life, but keep your wits about you and heed Geod’s word, and you’ll honor your station.” The man rose from his seat, walked over to where you were now standing, and took your hand in his larger gauntlet, shaking slowly. “Hopefully, I’ll be hearing legends about you in the years to come.”

You wished your salty recruit commander the best in training the squires of the future, then took your leave, trying not to think about how, in order to achieve that legacy he was talking about, you might end up screwing his wife on the regular. In the end, he’d been a good commander, even if he wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to share an ale with.

You said your final goodbyes to your fellow students and then your family, before loading your traveling kit onto the carriage out of town. Right now, you were riding with tourists and tradesmen, but soon, you’d be dropped off amongst a different class of people all together: famous warriors and Geod’s other chosen. This would probably be the last normal cart-ride of your life.

Crossing through Missionaire’s gates and out onto the road would prove to be like exiting through many thresholds at once, leaving behind you everything you’d been schooled to know about demons, angels, saintesses, and squires, and embracing the living experience. It wouldn't hurt to get some rest before your big assignment. You allowed yourself to nod off and dream. The dreams that came to you were strange, but possibly not as strange as the reality you were riding into.

Opening your eyes after a long ride through the familiar grassland territory surrounding Missionaire, you began to see the trappings of warfare: patrolling parties, banners, and small, makeshift fortresses dotted the landscape. The other passengers had since been dropped off. You were the only one headed past the security of the town, just shy of the active battlefield. This was a well-secured area, but it was right on the fringe where demon attacks could be expected, and it wasn’t a place you or anyone without special orders could visit regularly.

Finally, you spotted it: a small camp decorated eclectically with six different styles of banners. The walls weren't high or fancy, but they didn't need to be. The metallic figures patrolling the perimeter were not knights, but rather, mechanical golems, a unique installment of Missionaire's defenses, attributable to its most famous inventor, the elf named Liens Whitespark. These would do a fine job protecting the camp from bandits or demons… as if the saintesses needed protecting.

You got off at the fringe of the camp and thanked the driver, before unloading your things and walking inside to set up. There wasn’t a soul around once you walked past the gate into the round… each of the saintesses must be in the habit of keeping to their own camps. Perhaps helping the saintesses open up to one another would be another of your duties during your time here?

Your own tent was waiting in the back, but after setting down your supplies there, you moved quickly back to the center of the camp. This was no time for settling in or isolating. As the squire to all six saintesses stationed here, you had a duty to make introductions. But where to start?