“Keep it up! Keep it up!”

The vast chamber rang with the sounds of training.

Arrayed in disciplined lines, the Gremlins turned humans swung heavy wooden blades at the unison, struggling to have their bodies memorize the motions.

Sarissa walked amidst her students, her sneer saying all about what she felt about being there.

“Keep your back straight when you swing, you dolt!” She barked at one.

The young warrior’s frown deepened, and he tried harder.

Sarissa watched him for a brief moment before nodding in grudging approval and walking off.

“Put strength into it!” The target of her next, a bit less vicious, reprimand was a girl, that jumped with a tiny squeak before hurrying to her task with renewed vigor.

Sarissa’s sneer colored with disgust as she kept walking down the line.

“Higher those elbows, moron!”

“Keep your butt still! You’re not dancing, idiot!”

“No!”

“Wrong!”

“Idiot!”

“Moron!”

“Dolt!”

“She really doesn’t like her job, does she?” Tur commented, passing the back of a hand over his forehead. He and some of his Warriors were by the sidelines: as elite soldiers, they took different training from the rest of the guys. Right now, puffing and covered in sweat, they were taking a breather on benches and chairs.

“She’s so mean!“ Fret whined. The girl sprawled on a chair big enough to hold three of her, a leg hooked over an armrest. She carefully touched a spot on her head and winced. “Ow! I would have got it right even without her clubbing me on the head, you know!” She extended her arms above her heads and waved her hands, in a gesture that was both exasperation and promise of telling the absolute truth.

“I don’t know,” Tad said vaguely. The man straddled a chair backward, leaning his chin over arms draped over the backrest. “I find it kinda endearing.” His gaze was glued to Sarissa’s lithe figure.

Fret made a gagging sound. Tur chuckled.

“Hey, come on.” The glance Tad threw both was only half-amused. “Don’t you think i got a shot?”

Tur and Fret exchanged a quick glance before the girl fell on her seat with an “ewwwwww” sound.

“But she’s a human!” She protested half-laughing.

Tad shrugged, his smile turning sardonic. “So are we, aren’t we? I don’t know you guys but i feel pretty human right now. It’s only a matter of form in the end, isn’t it? And i am pretty sure that this one the Master gave us is definitive.”

That answer turned Tur meditative. It gave pause to Fret too, but only for a moment.

“No way!” She exclaimed. Quick and nimble as a squirrel, she clambered on her seat and stretched to give Tad a playful shove. “Keep that for your own, you numbskull!”

Tad laughed but his eyes held their thoughtful edge.

Tur thought about it for a few moments while the two bantered.

“What do you think, Huk?” He eventually asked.

The question had both Fret and Tad stop dead on their tracks and turn to their big friend with curious expressions.

Huk sat on a simple stool, straight-backed and with his large hands closed around his knees.

The large man hummed, a low reverberating sound. “It’s not just a matter of form,” he mumbled. “But maybe Tad has a chance all the same.”

Tad’s face lit up and he grinned just as Fret’s expression filled with horror.

“You heard him!” The man said triumphantly.

“Ew!” Fret exclaimed, jumping at her feet. “That’s just…. Eeeeewwwwww!” And just to emphasize her thought on that argument, she started to tussle her hair and scratch her head all over, like if the craziness of it all had rubbed off on her and she had to get it off.

Tur rolled his eyes even as an amused smile broke over his face.

“It’s not just that she doesn’t like it,” Huk graveled suddenly. “She hates it.”

Tur needed a moment to understand what he meant.

“Ah!” He said, realizing that his friend was replying to his first question.

“You think?” He turned to look at the training, where Sarissa was just raining insults on a young man for a supposed mistake. He wasn’t going to be surprised by Huk’s sudden reply. Their silent, thoughtful giant went to his own pace. Some might mistake that attitude for mental slowness but Tur knew better. Huk was a thinking guy, despite what his aspect may suggest, and the brief, often cryptic, remarks he handed out when asked always came from long reflection and were invariably right on point.

“Why do you think is that?” He asked, curiosity aroused. They gave that newcomer a lukewarm welcome, that was true, but damn, she had been pissed and throwing insults from day one.

“She isn’t one of us,” Huk said flatly.

Tur didn’t bother to wait for more, since he knew his friend wasn’t going to be forthcoming. Instead, he turned those words in his head.

Yeah, no question about it. They had always been them children of the Master around there. Sure, people came and went, and they interacted with the humans of the city just alright, but nobody ever remained. Inside the Guild, they were a tight-knit group. Sarissa was actually the first outsider to have been given a role inside their group and, well, it wasn’t going very well when it came to integration - Ugh, it felt strange even thinking about it -. The guys didn’t like her, and she didn’t do much to be liked, if not the opposite. As the person in charge, he was concerned. He wasn’t used to that kind of tension between his soldiers, especially since it could hamper their performance.

“What the hell,” he grumbled. “Human or not, we’re all adults here. I will talk to her and see if i can put an end to this.”

Huk glanced at him briefly.

“Good luck.”

Fret gave him a thumbs up and Tad a smile that was a grimace as well.

Tur made his move when the training session ended. Making his way through the warriors, busy grumbling and taking a breather, he rehearsed the speech in his head. First, a compliment to set a good mood, then an off-hand remark about the fact that maybe she could pipe down the insults a little bit - said more like a friendly joke than a rebuke -, then an invitation to drink something with the guys. From there, he would wing it.

Tur smiled. He felt a bit nervous - the closest relationship he ever had with a human was trying to stab him, both before and after the new life gifted to him by the Master-, but hopeful as well.

He found Sarissa at the back of the training room. The young woman was busy stuffing a bag with stuff, or maybe she was trying to maul it to death. The hateful sneer and angry moves made him a bit uncertain about which was which.

“Hey, Sarissa!” He greeted, putting up the most cheerful expression he could muster. “Good job today! Still, think you could pipe it down with…”

Sarissa didn‘t even bother to turn. “Fuck off.”

Tur paused, caught off-guard by the hostility.

“Mh, alright, i guess. Wanna go at the bar? I and the guys are going and…”

The slamming of the bag against the floor interrupted him. Before he managed to put a word, he found himself staring at two large, very very angry eyes boring in his.

“I am gonna say this only once,” Sarissa hissed in his face. The woman looked ready for murder. “I am not one of you creeps and i don’t want to be one. I could be doing a dozen other things, each more important than your fucking existence and instead, i am forced to look after a bunch of fucking newbies that barely understand where the sharp bit of a sword is.” She leaned forward, almost making their noses touch. Her voice turned low and deadly like the point of her spear. “I hate being here and i fucking hate all of you. So you try to be all buddy-buddy with me again and i’ll fucking run you through, got it?”

Tur slowly raised his hands in a show of peace. Words didn’t come out though. All he managed to do was to swallow and nod quickly.

Sarissa sneered and turned away from him, turning to give a sharp look at the rest of the chamber. Out of instinct, Tur followed her gaze.

The room had gone deadly silent, everybody looking at them. Angry frowns were pictured over faces, and hands clenched swords’ handles hard.

Sarissa let her challenging look roam around, almost eager in her giving lip to everybody present.

Nothing happened. The soldiers grumbled and glared but nobody stepped forward or spoke.

Sarissa bared her teeth, her expression clenching. “That’s what i am talking about!” She screamed angrily at that room full of hostile gazes. “You’re a bunch of creeps, all of you!”

And with that, not even bothering to fetch her bag, she stormed out, pushing out of the way whoever blocked her path.

The room remained silent for a few moments after their local master of arms had disappeared. Then, the soldiers shrugged and went on with their day.

Only Tur remained where he was, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

“Welp.” He scratched his head with a grimace. “That didn’t go as i hoped.”

“You tried your best.”

Turning, Tur saw his squad walking to him.

“Holy shit, that was amazing!” Fret barely managed to speak. The girl held her stomach for the laughter. “She just went and blew up, straight in your face.”

“Thanks for taking one for the team, friend.” Tad put a hand over his shoulder. Tur could see that the gratitude on his face was only partly faked though.

“Ahr ahr ahr, very funny.” Tur rolled his eyes. He turned to Huk with a resigned look.

“She isn’t one of us,” the big man sentenced with solemnity.

“I hear you.” Tur tousled his hair, sighing. “Still doesn’t feel right though. I don’t like having that kind of tension in here.”

“Can‘t have everything!” Fret playfully patted him on the arm. “It’ll be fine! She‘s one, and we are many!”

Huk nodded somberly. Tad shrugged and shook his head with a helpless kind of smile.

Tur threw her a narrowed glance, unsure if being annoyed at her dismissal.

He decided not to. He couldn’t keep a frown at Fret.

“Bah! Humans!”

Going out, they stepped into a large courtyard of flattened dirt. All around, the construction guys, or, as the Master called them, the Sapper Corp, were busy at work finishing the surrounding fence, flattening the last stretches of ground or clearing out the debris left by the buildings that had been demolished to make room for the courtyard.

Tur felt a surge of pride at the sight. It has been barely a month since the Master had bought the buildings around the Guild and so much work had already been done.

With the new guys arrived from home base, smuggled in the supplies runs, they easily had more than a hundred soldiers in there, divided between the mansion and the Guild. It was a lot of hands but considering that they needed to work in shifts - the Master didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion with so many men - and the work that had been done in and under the mansion as well, the result weren’t anything short of wonders.

Now, the old building of the Guild had a vast courtyard behind and embracing a side of it, with a trio of other buildings acting respectively as a training and weapon deposit, a warehouse and garage and an office for the Master. What had essentially become a complex was surrounded by a tall fence, in some parts replaced by a stone wall, remnant of the old houses standing there previously. Access was allowed by a large wooden gate that was always guarded and could be closed at a moment’s notice, effectively transforming the place into a small fortress inside the city.

Tur had only a vague inkling of how many strings the Master had to pull for being allowed to build such a redoubt inside the city, but they must not have been just a few. It really looked like the relationships he had built since their arrival had already paid off.

Well, not surprising considering who the Master was.

Basking in that good feeling, Tur walked out of the training building - that the guys had already taken to call the Den, - since it was the dwelling of a certain unwelcome witch -, his squad in tow.

The soldiers milled about, talking and bantering, enjoying a moment of rest before the squad leaders ushered them to the next task in the schedule for the day.

At some distance, a crowd of soldiers clustered around the small figures of Trich and Crick.

The male wasn’t coy at all about entertaining the flock of girls buzzing around him like bees around honey. He handed out winks and smiles and friendly gestures that had girls fell into excited giggles and coy chuckles.

“How he does that?” Rather than truly envious, Tad looked more amazed.

“You kidding me?” Fret bumped past him hard enough to make him stumble, eyes glittering as she watched the little man. “Crick is amazing! He works directly under the Master. He even got a second name from him! He’s also smart and good at his job and nice and… so dreamy.” The girl swooned, ending in the arms of Huk.

Tur refrained by making comments, just chuckling lightly as Tad gave him an exaggeratedly forsaken look.

The exact opposite of his friend, Trich kept any admirer at bay with a mighty frown and swishing a pen around like it was a sword.

“Just even touch me, motherfucker, and see what happens,” she barked at a soldier that had tried to engage in conversation. The poor sod fell back in his group of similarly dejected-looking friends.

Tad sighed wistfully at the sight. “Ah, if only.”

Still hanging from Huk’s arms, Fret made a retching sound. “Dunno what you see in that one…”

“Well, right back at ya.”

“No! No! No!” Fret’s thin arms waved around. “You don’t get to do that! It works for me but not for you!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Tur allowed himself another moment of smiling and enjoying the bantering before calling all them back to order and setting his own expression to seriousness. The two Acolytes were coming their way.

“Coming in hot!” Crich chimed, traversing the last tract with a slide and a flourish of his arms.

Everybody around laughed, only to be peremptorily hushed by Trich.

“Quit standing there gawking, morons! Get back to work!”

Hearing their cues, the squad leaders hurried to recover their members. Chastised, the crowd quickly dispersed.

“Bunch of lazy bums,” Trich muttered under her breath.

“Relax,” Crich said, patting her casually on the shoulder.

Trich threw him a glare. “Yeah, and then instead of only one, we’d had nobody to keep them in line.”

Crich laughed, earning for himself another glare.

Tur wondered if it was okay for him to chime in. Well, might as well.

“So, do you need anything?”

The question had both turn their attention over him.

“Yo, Tur!” Crich said cheerfully, while Trich mumbled a much more formal greeting.

“We got Master’s orders for you and your team,” The female grumbled. She handed him a small envelope.

Falling back to his chief mentality, Tur received it with solemnity. He didn’t ask questions: he knew his only task was to read and obey. The only thought he had, apart from how to best organize things, it was if he would have been able to carry them. Those kinds of doubts were always with him.

He exchanged a serious glance with his team and nodded. Fret, Tad and Huk nodded back, just as resolute.

“Master is giving you a great deal of trust,” Trich reminded him, looking him straight in the eyes. “Do not disappoint him.”

Just the words evoked the worst in his mind. He nodded, serious. As long as he was alive, he would strive for that never to happen. He wasn’t completely sure he could measure up, doubts always stalked the back of his mind, but damn if he was going to try.

Trich had to see his thought in his expression, as she nodded, a threat and a recommendation both in his eyes.

“Huff, always so formal!” Crick jumped straight in, cheerfully hugging his female friend. He waved his hand, Trich fuming under his arm. “Don’t give her too much attention,” then, lowering his voice like he was telling a secret, “she gets cocky.”

“I don’t!” Trich pushed him away and he drew back, laughing.

“By the way,” Crick crossed his fingers behind his head, looking toward the group with a grin. “Where’s Sela? You guys ditched her somewhere?”

Fret, that had been watching the Acolyte like it was the sun, had her expression fall a bit.

“She’s been training,” Huk provided. “That’s everything she does these days.”

Trich’s eyes flashed dangerously. “And that’s just right!” She hissed. “She’s just lucky the Master has decided to overlook!”

Tur was taken off-guard by all that hostility.

Of course, he knew what Trich was referring to. Sela had been beating over herself for her blunder during the assault at the bandit camp ever since. The poor girl had been drilling herself endlessly, both as a way to pay the cost of her insubordination and to avoid it happen ever again. Initially, he had been the one handing out to her the tasks but her zeal had far surpassed even his harshest judgment.

He frowned. Sela had blundered badly, yes - insubordination like that was unacceptable-, but she remained one of his. The Master had left to him the last decision about any disciplinary action and he wouldn’t allow for that girl to be berated more than she already did by herself.

He didn’t need to speak: his expression told all.

But Trich wasn’t one to back down. She glared at him, undaunted.

“There’s something you want to say, commander?”

Thankfully, Crick jumped in before he could voice his thoughts.

“Whoa now!” The little man jumped up, a hand shielding his eyes as he looked away. “Isn’t that the Master calling?”

“What? Where?”

No faster reaction there could have been than the one of Trich. The girl jumped up and turned to run in the same action, actually walking toward the office even before getting her bearings.

Crick glided straight behind her, throwing Tur a wink as he passed him by.

The commander opened his mouth but before having the chance to put a word in the duo was already away.

He sighed, smiling weakly. Well, that went better than it could have done.

He turned to his squad, finding reflected on their expressions his own thoughts.

“Told you she’s a viper,” Fret huffed, puffing her cheeks as she threw glares the way the duo had gone.

“Nah, she means well,” Tad replied casually. The man shrugged. “Just a bit rough around the edges.”

Fret pursued her lips in a “puuuuh” sound, just to show what she thought about that.

“Bah, whatever.” Tur tousled his hair, sighing.

In the distance, he heard the duo bicker; it looked like Trich had got around his friend’s trick.

Turning to Huk, Tur saw the big man gazing thoughtfully where the female Acolyte was chasing his laughing counterpart with what could have been called murderous intentions.

“Something’s bothering you?”

Huk shook his head slowly. “No,” he said. “I was just thinking about Trich.”

Tur frowned, turning curious. “What about her?”

The big man remained silent for a moment. “Mistakes are always bound to happen,” he graveled eventually. “I wonder if she’ll be able to take it when she’ll make one.”

Tur thought about that for a few moments, concern rising.

“Welp, can’t really see the future,” he sighed. “I guess we’ll deal with it when it happens. And if.” He pressed some hope on that If. He already had enough concerns dealing with his guys. He would have happily done without that kind of trouble as well.

“What are you guys mumbling about?”

Fret jumped in with a sunny grin. The girl was quick at bouncing back from down moments.

“Let’s go! We got stuff to do!”

Tad hung down his head. “Tell me about it,” he said melancholically.

Tur smiled.

“Alright alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. Let’s go.”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah…”