“Heyla, Bert,” says Stevie as Bert the coffee shop.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Okay,” begins Bert when everyone arrives and drinks are served, “last week, I said I wanted backstories. Let me hear what you got.”

“I’ll start,” says Yvonne. “I created a war priest named Aeryn Qillian. I toyed with the idea of making a fighter, but knowing this group, I thought we’d need a cleric that could fight.”

“Good point,” says Mac. “I created a dwarven barbarian. Maybe a glass cannon, maybe not? A cleric would be helpful.”

“Tell us more about Aeryn.”

“She’s a war priest who started as a soldier. Her father’s an officer in the King’s Guard. From a young age she was around horses, weapons, armor, and fighting.”

“What about her mother?”

“I don’t know, she didn’t say.”

“Okay, go on.”

“Aeryn is a soldier first. But, she was aware of her higher calling. She realized she had a connection to something that saved her from dying more than once. The connections started small at first; glints of metal from dark alleyways hints of movement in the deep brush. Little things that seemed coincidental at first, easy to brush aside. Finally, the goddess came to her in a dream. She talked to the priests the next day.”

“Nice. I’ll have to have a chat with Roland and see if I can get him talking.”

“Did you bring a story?”

“Yeah.” Yvonne digs in her backpack. “It’s not about her journey as a healer, it’s about her as a trainer.”

###

Aeryn watched her squad drill in the yard. They were getting better, but still needed intensive training before she thought they’d be anywhere ready for the field.

“What do you think?” asked a deep voice behind her.

“I don’t trust them,” she responded without looking back. Aeryn recognized her father’s presence. “Yet,” she amended.

“Excellent,” replied Pietr Qillian, commander of the guard in Brookhaven. He stood next to her, evaluating the new recruits with an experienced eye.

“See that one?” he asked his daughter, pointing to a half-elf who kept dropping his off-shoulder and taking shots to the ribs again and again.

“Aye,” said Aeryn. “He won’t last his first skirmish if he doesn’t learn better.” She chuckled, putting a hand to her ribs remembering the pain. “I bet his ribs look the rainbow.”

“Indeed,” said Pietr. “Make sure the armsmaster is aware, I think he’s preoccupied.”

Aeryn looked over at the armsmaster working with an advanced recruit. She gave a sharp whistle. Her armsmaster looked up, and she beckoned him over.

“Armsmaster,” she said in a low voice, “your advanced students need to be helping the ones struggling now, not getting personal lessons. There’s time for that after daily drills are completed.”

The big man stiffened slightly, grumbling, “aye, lieutenant,” gave a salute, and trotted toward the new guards. Trouble, that one.

Aeryn sighed and hefted a training weapon and shield. She went to the half-elf to help him avoid getting himself killed in battle.

###

“I know it’s not much, but it’s all she’d tell me for now.”

“It’s a good start. Sometimes all you have to do is get them talking and they open up. Who’s next?”