//------------------------------//
// Chapter Eleven: A Universal Business Proposal. 
// Story: The "Tourist" 
// by Monochrome-1 
//------------------------------//

Well, at the very least, I can check the party out for a bit, Zephyr thought to himself after giving it a bit of thought as he entered inside, see the sights, maybe talk to the host,,who knows?
So walking past the gates Randolph went inside the castle ground, and when he entered he was assaulted by what he could only recall as the few parties that he had seen back home. Where an entire home would serve as the place of residence for a wild party. One accented with golden and silver ribbons along with displays of wealth and fueled by liquor and gaudy music.
   	Because the entire castle itself was a playground for everyone inside and it featured: gambling halls, bars, libraries, feasting halls, party rooms, and more. It was a wonderland for any adult that wanted to get drunk and to dance away or chat the night away with the many colors of humanity and society around them without care. 
   	And colors there were inside, for in this place one could see easily see the various colors and shades that humanity now had today: recruits dressed in their fine cloth uniforms, coal ridden workers whose being exuded the very aura of the heart of the industrial world along with its price, rogues draped in silks and cotton suits looking to pilfer what they could from the crowd, business makers, college students from the chancery, and more, but most notably were the soldiers. Although Zephyr had a hard time pinpointing if they were soldiers or not. 
Because they were the ones that stood out the most to him. Most of them were dressed in a casual uniform that consisted of a jacket made from a sleek and stylish waterproof fabric that was dyed with accents of grays, blacks, and purple; with those that weren’t sporting a set of sashes dyed in a similar set of colors. Something of which clashed heavily against the armored vests, breastplates, weapons, shields, and the grisly trophies that their wearers openly wore or carried respectively. It was a uniform definitely, but for what?  Thugs? Gangsters? Bodyguards? Mercenaries? Zephyr didn't know, but he wanted to. The only question that he had on his mind was how could he find out? 
Maybe I can look for the owner of the place or something, he thought to himself as he wandered around the place making his way inside of the castle and passing through a bar and gambling hall. I mean if someone owns this place they’ll probably be around here somewhere. That or at the very least someone would know them. 
	Before he could start however, the obvious struck him and gave him a dopey smile as he realized his idiocy. 
“I could do that, or I could just ask one of them face to face,” Zephyr admitted to himself with a soft laugh. “Hopefully everything goes well like it has before.”
So grabbing his suitcase he looked for the nearest soldier that he could find, spotted it, and began to make his way over. Only stopping in his tracks as he felt a feeling that came from them that he had nearly forgotten until now. 
It wasn’t a pleasant one to say the least as it was one that he was reminded of before he left home.  The feeling of ordinary men who could not only become violent at a moment's notice, but would do so without even shedding a single moment of regret towards it. Shifting from pleasant men and women one second to murderous monsters the next. A feeling of which  nearly every soldier back home had. 
And with an electric surge and a tremor in his hands Zephyr remembered what had happened to him not that long ago during the night he left.  Of how he was accused of being a traitor, a coward, a robber, and an enemy of the state for not signing up to fight against the enemy that was invading Equestria. Something to which he admitted to, somewhat, as he preferred life above all else. The idea of becoming a soldier, being drilled day in and day out without mercy, suffering seemingly marches to the front, seeing the horrors of war firsthand, and losing his life in the blink of an eye gave him an unsteady weight in the stomach after all. Let someone else do it, not him. 
So he joked the accusation away half-heartedly during the times they confronted him. Giving them jokes, a bit of cash, or faint promises that he never upheld. But eventually it became too much during one night. Because the soldiers that he confronted the night he left home weren’t wide-eyed recruiters. They were instead  the hardened veterans who had been torn away from their homes unwillingly to fight and were filled with spite along with scars they would have all their lives. To them everyone had to fight whether they wanted to or not. They were forced to do the same after all, and for a coward who refused to there was only remedy for that, punishment. 
And not just any punishment that could be enforced in a court or in a jail house, but rough mob-like justice.  Tackle them, take them down, steal what they have for your own, beat them black and blue, make their jaw loose and broken, and when they are done, why not show them a lesson they would remember for all time for daring to go against the state? 
        Why not kick them to the ground, brace their wings against a nearby curb, and stomp on it until all of the bones inside of it were broken? Until the flesh that held them together was nothing more than pudding? Until the traitorous scum that dared not to fight for their nation like they had was on the ground screaming, crying, and begging for it to stop, and to only reply by simply dragging them off to jail. 
That would show them, it would show anyone who watched the consequences of not doing their part in the war effort.  It's not like they would have been useful anyway. And nobody would be around to protest it, the state and its people served the army, and the army needed soldiers, soldiers of which would hopefully keep the nation alive for another night in its time of greatest need.

“I uhm, uhh,” Zephyr struggled to say as he watched a group of soldiers talk to one another. Most of which he could see were adorned in a wide variety of scars. Noticing his gaze, one of them grabbed a knife and pointed towards it in his direction. An act of which caused the others to leer at him with the same intent that he felt the soldiers had back home. 
“I should just, uhm, maybe look for someone else,” Zephyr mumbled to himself as he stumbled into a nearby passing group to break line of sight, “yeah…yeah. Talk to someone else, see what they know, and go from there.”
And maybe grab a drink or two, Zephyr thought to himself as he passed an open bar and with an outstretched hand grabbed a bottle. Quiet the nerves as they say.

Sadly Zephyr’s effort’s didn’t amount to much. He got no real information around pertaining and even after downing an entire bottle of wine he didn’t feel anything. 
A shame to be honest, he said holding up an expensive bottle of what the bartender had told him to be medicinal liquor before downing most of it, can’t taste it, and I can’t even feel it. Worse still, I can’t even find someone that’ll give me anything useful. 
That didn’t mean that finding the information was hard. In fact it was easy, just ask around for the staff and people would usually answer. They treated everyone as if they were honored guests, even those without an invitation such as him.  
In fact nobody had even had an invitation to come like Zephyr, they simply just came to the place uninvited, and made themselves at home. Something to which the staff treated them with the utmost of courtesy and respect as if they were honored guests: drinks were filled, food was given, handkerchiefs loaned with the expectation that they would be never given back, directions were given, and more.  But the only exception to this was any request pertaining towards their employers or the host of the party.   Something of which left Zephyr very frustrated in his attempts to find the owner to talk to them. 

    “I mean, are you sure that I shouldn't know?” Zephyr repeated his question towards an employee, a suited man dressed in a black and white suit a bit later. 
“Yes sir,” the employee repeated with a smile in what Zephyr heard to be Equestrian as they gestured around the two. “I mean your here, the refreshments are around, food is available, and service is free! Who cares about such a little thing about who is hosting it or for what reason.”
“I don’t know, normally I don’t, but,” Zephyr said in reply as he looked around.  The place was nice, very nice, loud, but still nice.  He was sure that if he applied himself he could probably enjoy the place, once he found some earplugs of course to dampen the noise, but still something on the edge of his itched at him that it felt wrong. Was it the soldiers? 
Zephyr looked at them. He didn’t know why, but they felt odd to look at. And not in the way that they dressed, but more in the way that they acted and how the staff acted to them. 
Because while everyone made themselves at home, they still didn’t know their way around and had to ask for help. But the soldiers...the soldiers not only treated the castle's ground as if it were their homes, they acted in a way as if it was clear that it was somehow. They knew where to go to get booze or food, which tables were playing the gambling games they wanted, and even the employee’s own names even though they never wore a nametag. Something to which they responded in kind, greeting them as not strangers, but fellow acquaintances.
It felt wrong to Zephyr, but why? This shouldn't be wrong, but somehow it did. Maybe it was because they knew each other, maybe it was the atmosphere, or the fact that this was a public part in which the ruffians and the gentle staff knew each other. He didn’t know. The only thing he could put a finger on was that this place felt odd.
“I don’t know,” he said with a shake of his head. “It's just something about this whole place feels off you know?”
“I do not sir,” the employee said with a shake of his head, “I do not.”
“Oh,” Zephyr replied somewhat defeated before he took another look around. “Well, I guess I should be going and keep my search up. Whoever is hosting this party probably knows what’s going on with the soldiers.”
“The ...soldiers?” the employee worded out carefully as if the word was new, “is something wrong with them? Have they started something with you or caused you any trouble?”
“Oh no, no, no,” Zephyr said with a shake of his head. “Nothings going on with them, it’s just I was wondering where they are from.”.
He pointed again towards a group of them talking with one another as they shared from a bottle of spirits. A gesture of which grabbed the employee’s attention.
“I see sir,” the employee said carefully before pointing towards a random group of soldiers passing by. “And why haven’t you simply asked them who they are?”
“Heheh, well to be honest they kinda freak me out a little bit,” Zephyr nervously admitted as he scratched the back of his head as he noticed another group pass by and shuffled out of the way to let them pass. “I-I- have a bad experience with their type in the past and I was wondering if I could talk to someone else that isn’t them.”
“I…see,” the employee said carefully. “Well, I suppose I can ask the other staff around if they know. I’m sure that once word spreads that the host will want to speak to you.”
“And you would be willing to do that?” Zephyr asked the employee. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” the employee answered Zephyr with a nod. “I’m not sure if it’ll actually have anything happen, but it could be worth a try.” They paused for whispering to themselves low enough for Zephyr not to hear, “that, and it could at the very least get me away from having to deal with the drunks,”
“
So with a signal, the employee left to inform their co-workers about the situation.  In the meantime Zephyr took a seat at a table while he patiently waited for them to return.
Nothing happened for a while, during which the party continued on: guests celebrated, drinks were passed around, and over time  the gambling tables that were setup slowly raked in the cash from the guests. All of whom were either too sloshed from the free drinks running or were simply too preoccupied with the party to notice their quickly fading fortunes . 
But, as before there seemed to be a particular exception for the soldiers. While they were still drinking, having fun, and all the like, they avoided the tables entirely. With them more than content to either gamble with one another.
Hmm, Zephyr noted to himself as he took note of a number of soldiers playing a round of poker between one another, well that’s strange. He was about to start watching the game when he heard a shout of words from someone nearby.
And looking into the direction of the noise he could see an employee, the one he saw before,  point towards Zephyr accompanied by someone. Someone of which Zephyr assumed to be the host of the party. He couldn't make out the exact features of the individual, they were too far away and hidden by the crowd to see much, but he could make out a few things. With one thing in particular being that they  wore a freshly pressed green colored suit that was decorated with medals and buttons polished to the point of near perfection, but that which heavily clashed against the glowing tattoo’s of their flesh that Zephyr swore moved like they were alive. 
Nevertheless, the individual spoke to the employee for a second, nodded, and then disappeared into the crowd. Only appearing for moments at a time to consult with the other employee’s at the party for a moment or two before continuing on. They were just about to reach Zephyr when a rough grabbed his collar and yanked him away into a crowd and out of their sight. 
“What the bloody hell are you doing!” a voice spoke to him in what Zephyr heard to be Equestrian, “you trying to get yourself killed or dragged into this whole business.”
“Uhm, no, no,” Zephyr meekly said as a jolt of anxiety ran through him as he unwillingly followed the individual who grabbed him by the color, “I was just uhm, just wanting to ask some questions that’s all.”
“Well questions here are what’s going to get you killed, don’t you know that?” the voice barked at him as they continued on. “The host here is dangerous, very dangerous, and trust me if you say one word wrong to him and he’ll have eight inches of steel shoved into your gut.”
“Oh, uhm” Zephyr uttered out as he was led through the crowd by the voice, “uhm are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m bloody well sure! The man’s insane and he’s always a hair trigger away from having a meltdown,  the voice barked back at Zephyr as he spun him into a clearing so that he could take a look at them. “Take a look at me, do you think I'm lying?” 

And so Zephyr did in the clearing, with him immediately recognizing the voice to be from a woman, an abyssinian,  who was one of the soldiers that he saw running around the castle's grounds. With her wearing a jacket made of that same strange material that was accented in the three colors that was part of their uniform: gray, black, and purple. All of which belonged to a woman with sharp cat-like ears. 
However while her eyes were sharp, her voice loud and rough, she didn’t seem to carry the aura or the intention that the other soldiers had before. Instead it was one born of concern, a concern of which reminded him of his family trying to warn him before he did something disastrous. Zephyr knew with a look whatever the abyssinian said was true, something disastrous could have happened to him if he stayed there to greet and talk with who he assumed to be the host. 
“Well?” she said, raising an eyebrow towards Zephyr, “am I lying, or aren’t I?”
“No, no, I can tell you aren’t,” Zephyr said with a shake of his head  as he moved a hand over his face. “I know that look you're giving to me all too well.”
“Familiar with it?” she said, raising an eyebrow. 
“Very,” he said with another sigh, “my family used to give me it all the time.”
“Hmph,” she said with a snort, “it seems that you have a penchant for getting into trouble.”
“Ehh more or less,” Zephyr said with a shrug as he scratched his back with his free hand. “When I was younger I tended to mingle with the wrong people, say the wrong things, and often get myself into trouble. “
He snorted for a moment with a shaky laugh. “Honestly, if it weren’t for them, I would probably be ten feet under back home years ago.” 
“Well, here's to playing my part for them tonight, ” she said with a smile as well. “Seems that you haven’t outgrown that habit, have you? ”
“No, no, it seems I haven’t,” Zephyr replied as a nostalgic look came over his face as he gave another sigh, “it seems I haven’t at all.”
She merely hummed in reply as silence began to continue. With him watching the crowd and her doing the same. The thought of idly leaving was beginning to cross Zephyr’s mind when the abyssinian spoke.
“So what were you going to ask him?” she asked Zephyr as she withdrew a claw and playfully flicked it at his forehead. “What burning questions do you have that make you want to go to the top?” 
“Oh…just some questions on what was with you all,” Zephyr said with a wave towards her as he flicked her clawed finger away. “I’ve never seen your people before until now so I wanted to know about you all.” 
“Heh, really, that’s it?” she said with a laugh. “That’s all you wanted to know, just who we are?”
“I-if you can believe that,” Zephyr shakily answered. “I had the idea to ask you all, but uh…uhm.”
“We freak you out?” she answered with a cocked eyebrow with her arms crossed together. “Give you the heebie jeebies, the creepie crawlies when you see us firsthand?” 
“Y-yeeah,” he admitted, somewhat defeated. “I saw some of you people and you reminded me of something that happened to me not that long ago.” 
“Bad incident in the past?” she said pointing with a finger towards the lame wings on Zephyr’s back.   
“Yeah, you can say that,” Zephyr said quietly. “You can say that for sure.” 
“Well, if you want, you can ask me those questions,” she offered to him. “Doesn't seem like you're freaking out when your next to me right?”
With that question Zephyr fell silent, as he looked on as a question hit him. Could he? She seemed friendly enough, and she didn’t have the same aura that the soldiers, if you can call them that had. It seemed good enough and something was better than nothing after all.
“Well…alright,” he said with a nod as he covered one of his ears with his free hand, “but if we can let’s take this somewhere quieter and away from the noise. This isn’t exactly the greatest place to talk about the questions I have in mind.”  
“Ehhh..sure,” she agreed with a friendly shrug, “there's a few places where we can talk that’s a bit quieter. The captain’s always been fond of having a few private places to brood after all.”
“Captain?!” Zephyr exclaimed alarmed. “He’s a captain?”
“That and more,” she said with a smile as she grabbed him by the hand and led him inside “that and more. I promise I’ll explain what’s going on when we get to a quieter place, alright?”
“Alright,” Zephyr said with a nod as he was led through the castle's halls. 

Eventually in time, the two reached a small private study. One of which had a nearby fireplace, a few paintings, carpeted floor, a bookshelf, and a few chairs with a table. All of which were unused and seemingly abandoned as they were all covered in a thick layer of dust.
“Eh this should be good enough,” the abyssinian said with a smile as she walked into the room and tapped one of the chairs with a clawed hand. “Just take a seat and we can get started.”
“That’s good,” Zephyr thanked the abyssinian as he sat down and massaged his ears. “Honestly another hour and I’m sure that I would have gone deaf.”
“Mhmh,” she merely hummed as she took in the surroundings with her back towards him. “Say, before we get started is it alright if I make something clear?”
“Yeah?” Zephyr said as he put his suitcase to the side. “What’s that?”
“Just don’t try to start any funny business alright?” she said to Zephyr turning back towards him and with a movement revealed a heavy sword along with a revolver that was strapped to her waist. “I’m doing this out of courtesy and if you try anything I do want to warn you, I do know how to use these.”
“H-hey-hey don’t worry, I’m just here to answer some questions,” Zephyr said, alarmed and with his hands up as he looked around. “It’s not like I can even do anything with the way that I am.”
“Mhmh, yeah…I guess,” she said with some hesitation as she looked Zephyr over. “Not exactly you have any meat on your shoulders in the first place, you're pretty much a skeleton at this point.”   
“I guess,” Zephyr merely nervously laughed at the comment as he looked around for something to distract him with. One of which he found in the form of a painting on the wall that depicted a young and malformed dragon woman in makeshift armor. She was seated at a bench surrounded by patches of metal along with nails and using a hammer to crudely patch together her leg by nailing them together.
“Uhh what’s that by the way?” he said with a bit of trepidation as he pointed out the painting that was in the room. 
“One of the captain’s ancestors,” she blankly said as she looked at it for a moment with an expression of indifference and apathy. “He’s fascinated with the past and especially with the deeds of ancestors so he’s put paintings in nearly every room that can.”
“The one that your looking at is someone called The Maiden of Iron,” she explained to him gesturing towards the painting. “She was said to have been an old war captain who was hired to take down a fort and during which she was slain again and again. Only coming back through the effects of Torpor and by sheer willpower for getting the job done.” 
“Why?” he said less as a question and more as a reflex to her as he looked at it. Only just now noticing that the scales that the woman had were not scales. Instead they were pieces of scrap, debris, broken blades, and anything remotely metal that could have been found on a battlefield. All of which were nailed to her body giving her the look of a living monster made from metal and rust.”
“Because the changelings she was fighting for promised her gold and treasure,” she answered him with a dim smile. “Lots of it.”
“Did she live through it?” he asked her. 
“She did,” she said with a nod. “She managed to live through the siege, take down the fort, and personally present the warden of the castle’s skull to her employee.” She paused for a moment before saying, “one of which I believe is a distant ancestor to the leader of the changelings at the moment.”
“Huh,” he said, “and what happened to her after?” 
“She was rewarded, given her treasure, and given the option of another tour,” the abyssinian answered with a shrug. “She accepted and from there served under the queen for a period of 10 years conquering forts, slaughtering armies, winning duels, and whatever a pragmatic dragon mercenary is apt to do.”
“And after?” he said, looking at it idly.
“I don’t know,” the abyssinian said with a shrug. “Only the host knows and he refuses to tell us. My guess is that she either eventually retired from her duties to go back or died.”
“I mean,” she continued looking at it with a faint grimace now, “it’s not like it matters knowing to be honest. That happened centuries ago I think and the only ones who would care are the direct ancestors of those people themselves.” 
“I mean I guess,” Zephyr said, pulling himself away from the macabre painting with a shudder. "Still, it’s good to pay attention to history though, know your mistakes, learn from them, what not.”
“Mhmh, ” she merely hummed in response as she took a seat. “I suppose, but let’s not talk about history for now. We’re here to talk about what me and the others are doing right?”
“R-right, right, better not to talk to get too distracted before we go off ” Zephyr agreed with a nod as he nervously scratched the side of his face. “I guess going back to it, uhm, are you people soldiers?” she asked her before pointing towards her outfit. “I mean you look like soldiers, but in a way you…don’t?  What’s going on with that?”
“Well to start on the clothing it’s an idea that we had from one of the starters,” she answered while taking a moment to pick at her jacket and revealing the armored vest that she had underneath. “They said that instead of wearing camo or the like, we should wear some more…modern equipment to attract clients,” she said with air quotes before settling in her chair with a sigh. “As for the other part, we’re mercenaries.” 
“Or at least…prospective ones,”  she added semi-quietly. “We’re still trying to get the paperwork and stuff together.”
“Mercenaries huh, and how is this being allowed?” Zephyr asked her dubiously, as he half remembered the few books of warfare that he read in the past. “Aren’t mercenaries usually forbidden from acting in a conflict or even existing in the first place?”
“Not if you're willing to shuffle some paperwork around, bribe a few people, and apply some loose labels to everything you do,” she said with a toothy smile. “Sure we’ll be mercs to our clients, but to the world we’re just a bunch of strangely armed volunteers or a private security force.”
“And hey, it’s not like anyone’s around to enforce it,” she added on, throwing her hands up for a moment.” Who's going to stop us? The world police?”  
“Pft, I  guess,” Zephyr replied with a shrug. “And this is being allowed by the Dragon Lord?”
“Not only that, but being informally sponsored as well,” the abyssinian happily replied to Zephyr with a snap of her fingers. “Heck she even gave us a good bit of cash along with the rights from what i’ve heard so far so we can start up this operation. By my guess she’s one of the founders as well that’s coordinating everything right now.”
“Really?” Zephyr said. 
“Really,” she confirmed with a nod. “I mean who else other than the ruler of a state would allow mercenaries to not only set up camp but to recruit from the people as well. Not many, that's for sure.”
“Wouldn't that be a problem later on?” Zephyr asked as the idea of recruitment came to him. “With you and her competing to recruit from the same place?”
“Eh not really,” she answered Zephyr with a shrug, “see unlike The Dragonlord, we can recruit abroad as the other founder’s have connections to help with that.”
“What kind of connections?” Zephyr continued to be interested as he thought back to what he saw at the party. Now that I think about it, most of them weren't dragons were they?
“Oh this and that,” she said, waving off Zephyr’s answer. “Don’t worry about it. Just know that for all intents and purposes us and The Isle’s own army will be just fine.”
“I…see,” Zephyr said somewhat hesitantly. “And what if The isles gets invaded or involved formally in a conflict? Do you plan on coming back to help?”
“Well, it is our base of operations of course,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “Formally we’re not part of the army or even supposed to do anything about it. This place gets invaded, but I'm sure that the founders will be more than willing to give a hefty discount to The Isles if that happens to keep the peace.”
“Discount huh,” Zephyr said somewhat unamused with a flat stare. “So why would they want to do this anyway?” he asked her. “I’m not sure that letting a mercenary company run around your home sounds smart.”
“Well it probably isn’t letting a bunch of strangers run around with guns, but it’s one way to solve their problems I guess,”  she answered happily. “Stuff like lack of manpower, equipment, training, and giving them the ability to let them help whatever side they want while making sure they don’t get themselves invaded.” 
“I-invaded for wanting to help?” Zephyr stuttered out. “Why would they get invaded for helping someone?”
“Because as the war is going on in the west eyes have started to drift to here” the mercenary flatly answered Zephyr with an amused face. “The Isles is a great jumping off point for a flanking army for the changelings, so if The Isles groups up with Equestria in the war they might have an army knocking on their door wanting to know what’s going on. The same goes for Equestria if The Isles sides with the changelings. Why? Because tensions with the dragons are still high and I'm sure they are itching for the first chance they have to get some payback.”
“Heh, and there's no way out of it?” Zephyr asked her despondently.
“For its people? No, “ the mercenary pensively confirmed to Zephyr. “In the end they both see The Isles as a pawn that they can use for their games. It’s lose lose no matter what you do.”
“But what about-,” Zephyr tried to say before being interrupted by the mercenary.
“Look,” she said glaring at Zephyr with an annoyed look knowing what he was going to say. “Helping harmony is nice and all, but it doesn't matter who wins the war or who is in the right if they both want you to be a puppet for their games and if they’re going to backstab you at the end.” 
“Like honestly,” she continued looking at Zephyr while throwing up a hand. “Do you honestly expect either the changelings or the Equestrians to give the dragons a share at the end of it all if they help out? Sure they might give praise, medals, and titles along with a chance of survival for what’s to come, but that won’t mean anything compared to what’s been lost. The only thing that can make up for that is cash and land,” she emphasized rubbing her fingers together. “And let me tell you, they won’t do that at all. Not when The Isles is an ant compared to the giants that they will be aligning with.” 
Zephyr was struck silent with that response from the Abyssinian. Would Equestria really act like that if dragons helped out? He knew they would welcome the help with open arms and open hearts, but at the end of it all what would happen next? If the changelings were pushed back and conquered someone had to administer it all of course, and he knew it would be Equestria. He knew that nobody back home would trust a dragon with overseeing the changelings, not when they could do it themselves. Take charge of it all, administer it in what ways they could, and try to reform it into a good nation. That or turn it into a living hell for the exportation of raw resources that he heard about before on the news before he left. 
And then what? That would be the changelings fate, but what about the dragons? What would they get in return?  Would the deaths of potentially thousands of lives and a potentially drastic reduction in the dragon population be worth it for a medal, a statue, and the chance of survival in the years to come? Something of which could be refused at a moment's notice? 
Zephyr didn’t know, he just didn’t know enough or refused to make a conclusion about it all, but he knew that the idea left a weight in his stomach at the thought of it. 

“I uhm, uh, err,” Zephyr tried to speak before only giving a worn smile and a shrug to the mercenary to which she echoed in response.
“Yeah that’s kind of the way it is I guess,” she said acknowledging his internal conflict with a nod as she lounged back in her chair. “Maybe I'm guessing it wrong, but from what I know that’s the way things are. Damned if you side with one side, doomed if you side with the other, so you might as well just see what you can get at the end of it all by playing every side you can.”
“I uhh, I guess,” Zephyr hesitantly agreed with a shrug. “So what is this party meant for?”
“Mostly to celebrate and to give a welcoming party for the people we are recruiting from abroad,” she answered . “That and to give those in charge a chance to talk things over.”
“About what?” Zephyr asked her.
“I don’t know, logistics, egos, history, business deals, who cares,” she said waving a finger in the air. “As far as I know the parties are a place where the higher ups of this company meet up so they can talk about what to do.”
“And the host is one of those?” Zephyr said.
“Pretty much,” she said with a nod. “He foots the bill, makes sure everyone’s happy, and he gets a spot at the top.”
“Really? He just bought his way into being an officer?” Zephyr said leaning in and somewhat confused at the idea of someone simply buying their way into rank. He had heard about the practice before in history books, but is that still an option today? Wasn’t that something that had been abandoned long ago? 
“Eh…not  entirely, but sorta,” she said with some hesitation with a wave of her hand in a so-so manner . “As we’re in the opening stages right now anyone who can volunteer themselves to a position while being competent enough to do it gets the spot.”
“Really?” Zephyr said somewhat amused and putting a hand to himself, “even me?”
“If you can prove you're capable of doing the job, then sure,” she said, looking him up and down. “ I doubt you’ll make it, but your welcome to try as it’s not like we exactly have an established chain of command yet.” 
“That…sounds like it can be troublesome,” Zephyr said with a pained look on his face as he imagined a bunch of twenty year olds trying to get themselves elected to the position of a general.
“Oh for sure, it’s been a mess to say the least,” the mercenary agreed with him. “If we aren’t having trouble with establishing the chain of command, it’s making sure what to do with all of the…recruits we have, and the fact that most of the veterans here are viciously stubborn about still wanting to use longbows, crossbows, shields.”
“What do you mean by that?” Zephyr said, confused. “Aren’t the mercenaries here professionals?”
“Not a lot of them,” the mercenary said, shaking her head. “A lot of the people we have right now are just random nobodies: thieves, debtors, beggars, bandits, cultists, naïve adventurers, deserters, war criminals, idiots, and anyone else that you think of that doesn't fit in this world.” 
“Hell, I'm sure that the few knights that we have are either noble children born too low on the ladder to do anything with their heritage or they are just rando's wearing a dead man’s suit of armor,” she continued with a smile as she looked out the window. “Honestly it’s not like it matters for the founders. All they care about is that whoever is here is willing to fight for a paycheck. Not who you are, who you were, or what you did in the past.”  
“I guess so,” Zephyr said as he shifted in his seat to relax a bit more. The answer he got wasn’t great and the picture that it painted wasn’t that great either. With Zephyr imagining foreign recruiters roaming around the world looking for the poor and desperate to fling away into a mercenary's life, and one he  suspected to be brutally short.  Because most mercenaries didn’t live to see retirement after all according to the history books; they often ended up either poor, dead, or little better than armed robbers.
Well it is what it is, Zephyr thought to himself bitterly as a weight began to settle on his shoulders and chest.  At the very least whoever they recruit will at least be deciding their fates for themselves…hopefully. 

With the cue of a sigh a silence began to settle into the room. With Zephyr taking a few minutes to compose himself and to shrug off the weight that he had and the mercenary waiting for another question. Eventually he asked her one, this time about her.  
“Me?” she said pointing a finger at herself somewhat surprised, “what about me?”
“How did you get involved in this?” he restated his question with a raised eyebrow. “Where do you fit in all of this?
“Well…how do I want to put it, hmm,” the mercenary said to herself thinking about it for a moment. “Let’s… just say that I know the flesh business more than the average person and this seemed a more honest way of earning cash.”
“Err,” Zephyr said somewhat confused, “what? What do you mean?”
“Eh if you don’t know what it is I wouldn't worry about it,” she said with a smile. “Just consider me one of the helping hands here that helps to move things around.”
“Well um…alright I guess,” he said, eventually rubbing his head as a headache began to form. “Mind telling me about those people you said were obsessed with antique weapons?” 
“Oh the longbows?” the mercenary said, tilting her head at Zephyr. ‘Well, we have a few veterans here even apart from the local riff raff believe it or not, but many of them are old and clinging to their old ways: disgraced chargers that refuse to use anything better than a magical bow or spear, stubborn and old knights that still want to use a sword and shield, and the odd pyromaniacal mage that refuses to use anything more than a fireball for their problems.”
“And you can’t do anything about it?’ Zephyr asked her. 
“Not unless we want to drive them away and with it the only experienced soldiers and leaders we have,” she answered sadly with a shake of her head. “A lot of those people I mentioned have influence along with experience and we need those unless we want to make an army entirely of fools.” 
“Mhmh,” Zephyr hummed in response. “Doesn't exactly sound like a great way to start off a mercenary company.”
“No it isn’t that’s for sure, but I know we’ll make it work given time,” she said with some confidence. “With the way the world is right now I’m sure we’ll find it easy to get a job or two to kill or hurt someone.”
“I suppose so with the way the world is,” Zephyr said with a shrug as he stood up as his patience for the situation and the explanation that he had for the situation
“I’m..just gonna head out,” he said to the mercenary as he grabbed his suitcase. “Thank you for the answers by the way.
“Anytime,” she said with a smile. “Any idea what you're gonna to do now as you head out?”. 
“Head to the ports and get out of here,” he answered while accenting what he said with a gesture of his hands. “I don’t plan on staying here when war breaks out.”
“Smart,” she said with a nod, “smart. Not a lot of us have that chance so good on you for taking it. I’ll wish you the best then.”

Zephyr only gave her a hollow smile as he bid his farewell. With him making his way out of the room, down the floors, past the grounds, and eventually to the clean air outside All the while a series of thoughts echoed through his mind as he slowly recollected what he had been. 
What a trip, he thought to himself, what a trip. One minute your talking to diplomats, another to a dragon that’s potentially older than The Monarch of The Sun, and the next your talking to an amoral mercenary, hmph. 
“Well at the very least it seems to be coming to a conclusion,” he muttered to himself as he spotted the distant port in the distance where his ride out of The Isles awaited. “Hopefully from here it'll be smooth sailing.”
And by placing one in front of him Zephyr slowly made his way towards it. As per usual and in time as he made his way towards it his mind felt loose, thoughts began to become slippery, and in time everything blurred together into a warm glow. It felt almost like he was coming home for the first time in his life.