Headed by a Snake

Seniority. What a joke.

Karodin jammed a thumb against his muscled chest plate, "Karodin of Emerbold, rank of Decanus at 18, Tesserarius at 22, and the youngest Pilus Prior in the history of the Aethra Legion's 2nd Cohort. If you want to play the rank game, Decanos Pavlos, I'll bend you over my knee and fistf*ck you in the arse-- don't. F*CK. with me!"

Karodin clenched his jaw, gnashing his teeth. He hated talking like a Centurion... His military days were long behind him.

Seven hells... He shouldn't HAVE to talk like that anymore!

He begrudgingly accepted that there were times... though rare, that he had to let his military background show. Some people thought they could do or say whatever they wanted because they had rank or seniority.

There were two types of people that survived in the Tyrion military. There were arseholes and there were people who knew how to deal with them. Karodin didn't think he was the former... but he had learned from early on his career that sometimes, he had to throw his achievements around to gain respect.

Eventually, his rank spoke for him. But... it seemed that some people in the Brazen Guard collective remained woefully unaware of who the f*ck he was.

He didn't earn the rank of Centurion... or become the Pilus Prior of an entire cohort because he was soft. He hadn't become Bannok's Optio because of his nice and polite personality.

He worked his arse off. He completed so many Flame-taken missions and brought so many adventurers back alive that Bannok would have had to be deaf or blind to promote anyone else.

"Optio..." A messy-haired Legionnaire from Guild Eagle Sentinel stepped forward, "--requesting permission to speak."

"Go ahead," Karodin scowled.

It hurt his cheeks to twist his face like that. A long time ago, he was told that his weird facial muscle spasms made him look like a rabid dog... so he had that going for him.

"With respect, Sir, Pavlos raised some really good points."

Karodin raised an eyebrow, "He did, did he? And were any of them any better ideas for getting out of this Flamescarred shite hole? ...Because last I Flame-taking checked, only the Tactician, formerly known as DUPLICARIUS TYCON, had anything at f*cking all."

The Eagle Sentinel gulped audibly. Unconsciously, the man had fixed his posture, his spine as straight as an iron spear... It was ridiculous. Neither of them were in the military proper, anymore... but at least with this guy playing along, everyone else should know not to talk back to him.

Legionnaire Karodin slowly looked over the adventurers in the huddle, all of them on edge. Glancing at his side, Ptolema was showing him a look of concern.

Oh. Hm. Was he overdoing it?

"Decanus Pavlos."

"I hear you, Optio," The older Scout stood at attention-- granting him the basic respect he rightfully deserved.

"I'd like to hear what you have to say."

"Ah... Optio Karodin... I don't know if it's really appropriate--"

Karodin grabbed the Brightstar guild leader by the throat, throttling him-- choking the life out of him, "Did I F*CKING ASK if it was FLAME-F*CKING APPROPRIATE???!!"

"Karodin, no!" Ptolema hurried forward.

The various adventurers surged forth, eventually peeling Karodin off of the weaker man.

"Answer me, DECANUS!!!" Karodin powered his left arm forward, sending two adventurers sprawling onto the Dungeon floor. He didn't do the same to his right, because Ptolema was there, desperately holding on.

"N-no, Optio," Pavlos coughed, averting his gaze. Illuminated by the torchlight, his neck was already beginning to bruise.

"Look at me, Decanus!!" Karodin shouted, spitting and slavering like a combat instructor, "LOOK ME IN THE EYES WHEN YOU OPEN YOUR COCKSUCKING MOUTH!!!"

"Yes, Optio! I hear you, Optio!!" Pavlos trembled as he tried to stand straight and rigid. Rather than a leader of a guild, he looked more like a fish, freshly-recruited from his farming village, wishing for nothing more than to go home and suck on his mother's tit.

"Good," Karodin relaxed his shoulders, shaking the various adventurers off of him... "Now, I say again... tell me what you said."

"I... I..."

Karodin crossed his arms, seething... "It would *behoove* you to not test what little patience I have left."

Pavlos gulped again... "I was jus' sayin'... It's weird that-- that Guild Letalis hasn't had any casualties."

The other adventurers murmured in reluctant agreement.

"Decanus. Pavlos..." Karodin whispered in a hoarse voice, trying to restrain his fury... for Ptolema's sake... "Tell me, right now... that you're joking."

"That, by itself, is a fact, Optio Karodin," Ptolema quietly reminded him.

"Doesn't. mean. SHITE!" Karodin pointed the thumb and fingers of his hand at Pavlos, "Every single member of Guild Letalis is outfitted with advanced armor and weaponry, rivaling that of our GOLD-RANK forward team. Their ranged line has put COUNTLESS bells down-range. Their sanctified psykers match every single Brazen Guard psyker AND outclass them in age. And their assault line...

"One is probably not human-- my guess is he's a pagan god of fire. Another literally has the most awesome metal wolf I've ever seen in my life-- isn't that right? Guild Metal Wolf?"

"True..." The leader of Guild Metal Wolves chimed in, taking off his helmet. "She's a beauty. Her name is Tres Leches-- it means Three Moons, her owner says."

"And the Tactician," Karodin continued-- "Can shoot DRAGONS out of his Flamescarred sword. Can YOU, Decanus Pavlos, shoot DRAGONS out of your bow??"

"N-no, Optio," Pavlos sniffed.

"If you could shoot DRAGONS out of your bow... do you think you'd be a liiiiiiitttle bit stronger?"

"Y... yes, Optio..."

"Now..." Karodin took a deep breath, "is it a little more reasonable that Guild Letalis is in a better state than anyone else?"

He clenched his fist on the hilt of the sword on his side. He might have drawn it... if not for Ptolema holding onto his wrist... "Or do you still think it's some sort of Flamescarred conspiracy?"

Pavlos grimaced, "I'm good, Optio... No complaints."

"Very well," Karodin turned away. "If you get a good idea to get outta here, that's one thing. If you're gonna doubt the people that are tryin' their Flame-taken best to keep you alive, then you better have a damn. good. reason... You hear me, Decanus?"

"I hear you, Optio!" Pavlos replied faithfully.

"Good... Good. Let's go, Decanus Ptolema."

As his adrenaline was beginning to wane, the pain started to return... literally everywhere. He decided to follow his wife's advice and see Priestess Aria's healers...

Ptolema sighed... "I hear you, Optio."

As Karodin walked away, he heard Ptolema get the last word in to Pavlos... "You'd better thank the Flame that I was here. That could've gone so much worse."

Hm. How true that was...