Micky was currently in a very bad mood. This wasn’t because things were going badly for once. No, it was actually the opposite. As annoying as it was, the enemy forces weren’t making a dent in Maymay’s formations. It didn’t help that a forest was basically a fortress for spirits, or should it be said that was the primary reason. Not to mention that the new recruits, given [Citizen]ship through military merit were also evening the odds.

Nor was it that the Legate was finally moving onto helping the remaining squads after he left them out to dry while he stabilized his own forces and did more important things like tear down and sell the enemy base. No, he finally could not justify sitting on his hands anymore without the military putting his actions to question. Or so it was rumoured a strongly worded letter had implied. The fact that he had thrown a conniption fit was well known after receiving said letter for ‘the audacity to besmirch his honor’ did lend credence to the rumor though.

Nor was it the fact that while many of his faction was occupied he was able to put into play the exact changes he had wished to implement. He now had a strong handle on the faction even if it was much weaker than what the original three had. It didn’t help the faction that two were confirmed [Dead] in the legates suicidal charge and the third was currently still occupied… which Micky may or may not have had a hand in.

No, it was the fact that Maymay, the other commander, and even Prin had forced him out of the command tent and ordered him to ‘Stop brooding’ as they stated. The fact that he was kicked out of his own command and ordered to do something and stop being mopey was causing him too… well mope. He just didn’t like it, not one bit. And there was nothing that could be said or done that would cheer him up. Almost nothing as he drank the surprisingly good beer and had a fairly busty woman rubbing up against his back as she tried to chat him up. He was fairly sure she was plastered… and a woman for hire, but it was the thought, or the physical act, that counts. He couldn’t exactly make up his mind which was which and came first at the moment.

The busty lass did not prevent him from moping thought. If anything that was what was doing it for her, which meant it was doing it for him… He would probably ask her for some things later, when he was less busy, with things. It was some good beer though…

Micky couldn’t wallow in Misery for too long though. He had the first meeting since the disaster the legate calls a victory to attend. It was a war meeting for his faction and he couldn’t be too wasted… too much more wasted. So he got up on his only slightly unsteady legs. He had Kux, his assistant of the day smell his breath and apparently it wasn’t that much more putrid than the rest of this unsavory lot. He took that as he had drunk a bit, but not too much. He was going to have to make speeches but he should probably be steady on his feet.

After Micky marched into the tent he moved with conviction as he slinked over to the head of the meeting table. This was going to be where all the powerful centurion’s of the faction would gather. He was just glad that only a few had actually gathered up already. He did not need them meeting and greeting before the big reveal. This way he could keep as much control as possible. It was true that getting an accurate time was impossible, but as long as he had important enough people here he could make the announcements and they could file their complaints afterwards.

As more and more gathered Micky grabbed the wine that was prepared. Finest of the inheritance that the two dealer lost leaders had squirreled away. As the new leader it was important that Micky regained all the assets in the name of the faction. Couldn’t have valuable assets landing in the hands of unsavoury characters now could we?

After the majority of those important enough had gathered, about 3 in 4 of the necessary individuals, Micky called to order the meeting in session. It was important that they have the feast after the celebratory announcements afterall. A point that the knowing few had given a headnod too, if a scrutinizing eye.

“The first order of business is that we will be forming a war council of our own. There are far too many new faces who themselves should have a vote in what our faction of this army are to do about things. It is nigh time they had it. All in favor?” Micky stated from the head of the table. It was no surprise when the majority of those present voted in favor. At least those in the know anyway. Those that were not, and backed the wrong horse, looked on aghast at what was happening. They were expecting a change in the leaders, not a whole new regime.

“Order, call to order!” Micky screamed. “Vote has passed by majority. The council members shall be named at a later time, however, Flavonious, Gious, Julious...” Micky went on to list several names off. Clearly these were several supporters who had thrown their hat into the ring to gain an early seat. While the seats were not yet formalised, these seats were already taken by Micky’s faction. This also did not mean that the other seats couldn’t be taken by Micky’s faction as well. This was an out and out coup, and it was successful. Granted the former leading party shouldn’t have tried to use the count as a figurehead anyway. That was on them, and they paid for it. Most surprising however, was that the previous third head of the faction actually agreed to the change in governance.

“Now, the second motion, I shall be stepping down from my previous position. It was always temporary that I would be the leader of the faction. This is because the count that I represent has already named a war leader and was never expecting to take command. And he has named Niel Turne Asgale as his prime en absence. As the counts representative in this punitive skirmish I shall be taking up my role as the watcher and spiritual guide as prime en victus.” Micky stated. Many even in his own faction having rye smiles on their faces. Stepping down was bullshit. They all knew he was stepping up.

Not only did he firmly place his own sub faction subordinate, the baron’s in name only while he wasn’t on the field, he had also taken on the ‘spiritual’ role in the war. This meant that he could all but overturn the council he had just set up. Really it was a brilliant play, and would probably work, if everyone there hadn’t gone along to further their own goals to power. However, Micky’s control over the faction was weak. So by decentralizing power he had actually strengthened his own power base because he was the weakest with the strongest voice and position. He held the initiative on decisions now and the rest of the faction was on the backfoot.

Soon it was time to socialize and the rest of the party was held. The centurions quickly broke off into groups as most were still fighting at this moment. This meant it was the perfect time to strategize on how to break out of the encirclement and appropriately use assets. Yes, surprisingly the faction was actually helping to strategize and move around assets to further the war effort if only to save their own skins…

And that was when Micky was hit with the worst news he could be at that moment. He was to be going on a supply run. Well, the worst news politically. He, a valuable and venerable centurion was to be sent on a supply run to fetch moderately needed supplies. At least he would be commanding a supply train of over 100,000. However still, this was a humiliation. That 100,000 could handle itself and always had. But now it seemed the legate had yet more shit to throw at him...