United Kingdoms

"Let me tell you something, brother," the soldier leaned closer and looked intently into Hulio's eyes. "Your Gerian probably wants to undermine you. I've dealt with such scoundrels more than once; life always puts them in their place in the end. Don't worry too much; you won't achieve much success in the guard. I'm not belittling its importance, but believe me, a veteran like myself – you'll find more glory, more trophies, and, of course... women! And you'll bring a hundred times more benefit. So, stick with me, give it your all, and your Gerian will die under the walls when some young punk stabs him. As for the dragons, there's so much crap in the world that I wouldn't be surprised by anything. It's just one of those things." The sergeant sighed through his teeth after the reception at the citadel. "I understand, duty is duty," Helmut nodded to the blue-clad soldiers. "But I'll remember you guys. The time is coming when you, too, will tuck your tails and come running to us, hoping that I'm in a good mood. Well, never mind. Have a good shift, everyone." The sergeant turned the group towards the market. "Mekriy, if I'm not mistaken?" he addressed the healer-apothecary. "You're not very talkative, but maybe you'll tell me about yourself? Whether you want to open up or not is up to you, but I'm not one to judge. I'm the kind of guy who's ready to stick his neck out for a comrade, no matter how old-fashioned that sounds."