A/N: A pretty pointless idea that got into my head when I started up a new file.


Matthew expertly twirled his spare dagger in his hands, sitting on a tree stump. Their tactician had called him and Rath to a meeting to establish formations for battle, which was apparently now a standard when the group received new recruits. It made sense, at least – no point in being unprepared in the event of an attack, if it could be helped.

He flicked the knife up into the air, taking the opportunity to cast a look around. The clearing was bustling with people, setting up tents and making dinner. The camp itself was a mess, only about half prepared for nightfall due to their sudden departure from Marquis Araphen's domain. They had not had much time to travel, but their leader – Lyndis, was it? – had run them as hard and far as she could before being forced to rest for the night. He could tell she was a prideful woman despite their brief encounter, and Araphen's prejudice of Sacaens had probably rubbed her the wrong way.

News of the conversation in the throne room had spread quickly, and her brigade appeared to be mostly supportive, with the spare complaint ("What do you mean we aren't staying at an inn for today? I thought we were staying at the castle! A gorgeous girl like me needs her beauty sleep!"), and even those stopped after a few hours. It surprised him how many people he had talked to trusted Lyndis, even the ones who had joined only recently or had no real reason for following her otherwise. Many lords struggled to earn such loyalty, and only accomplished it after long periods of time.

Deftly, Matthew caught the blade just before it pierced his thigh and put it away beneath his cloak. There wasn't really much to see that he hadn't already noticed, and information was best gleaned from listening in on a bit of gossip, anyway. A few days of looking into the details of this inheritance dispute and he would report back to Ostia.

Rath, who was sitting cross-legged nearby, looked up from tending to his bow as the tactician exited the tent. It was too small to have room for more than one person, so they had been forced to wait outside.

Matthew eyed the man, taking in his coarse robes and jaggedly cut hair. From what Matthew could see, he looked more like a poor merchant or a peasant than a war tactician.

"Glad to see you're well," the man said by way of greeting, nodding at them both. "I thank you for your service in the battle earlier."

Rath returned the nod somberly, while Matthew shot the man a grin. "Starting with the pleasantries already, are we? And here I thought I was joining a band of mercenaries!"

The tactician laughed wryly. "I only speak formally so that I can push you harder when you'll have to fight. Trust me, Serra complains about it all the time." He held out a hand. "I'm Mark, by the way."

They echoed their names in response, and shook hands. Mark got started right away. "We've got little time to waste, since we're so behind today." He unraveled a scroll from his robes, which Matthew saw was a map showing the area.

"Well informed, aren't you?" he said.

"Kent and Sain are familiar with the locale," Mark said easily, but Matthew didn't buy it. The map was much too detailed for what should have been a simple sketch based on word of mouth.

"Right now, we're around here, near the forest." Mark pointed to a group of trees on the map. "Since you have a horse, Rath, I want you to be part of the rearguard. I know you can probably take more damage than our other ranged attackers since you have more experience, but we've already got Kent and Sain up front and you'll be able to carry Wil or Erk around if necessary."

"It's fine with me," Rath said.

Mark then turned to Matthew. "As for you, Matthew, I want you to stay just behind the frontlines."

At this, Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Bit dangerous to do that for someone who can't use a weapon like the knights, isn't it?"

"Yes, but you can also steal treasure. Don't deny it," he added, seeing Matthew open his mouth in protest. "Whatever you want to call it, you're still taking what's not yours. And you're probably not going to give it back, either, from what I've seen so far."

"That's because I gave those items to you!" Matthew said indignantly. He paused. "Where did you put them, anyway?"

Mark shrugged. "Serra could have used the extra strength, so the robe's gone. And I'd rather you not steal the armorslayer until I decide what to do with it, so I won't tell you."

Matthew frowned. "You shouldn't assume I'll just take whatever I want if I think it's worth something. I'm not that greedy."

"Yes, but would you take something if you knew it was valuable and it wasn't yours?"

That shut him up.

"More importantly," Mark continued, "even if something goes wrong, you seem to have enough experience to be able to take care of yourself. If worst comes to worst, Kent or Sain can protect you."

"I don't need protecting any more than you do, Lord Tactician," Matthew pointed out. "Regardless of your strategic skill, you can't fight on the battlefield."

"I can find hiding places quite well, you know," Mark said, a little defensively. "It's safer that way. I'm useless with weapons, and the less you have to worry about when you're fighting, the better."

Rath, who had been quiet throughout their arguing, now interrupted. "Would that be all you needed to tell us?" he asked.

Mark leaned against the entrance of the tent. "That's it. It's not like we're a formal military, so there aren't any strict rules you'll need to follow here. Respect your superiors, I suppose, and report any problems to Kent or Lyn. We move out at dawn, so don't oversleep."

A resounding clang rang over the camp, startling a mage that had been reading a book by the fire.

"Well, there's the evening meal," said Mark. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'd rather not be last to be served. Lesson one of Lyndis' Legions: everybody gets hungry, and the line gets longer with each new addition to the company." He strode away, tucking his map out of sight. Matthew made a mental note to take a peek at it later to try and figure out when he should sneak away to send his report.

Before heading into the bustle of people near the fire, the tactician stopped and turned around. The look on his face was strangely amused.

"By the way, Matthew – I'm a lady, not a lord."

Matthew's only consolation was that Rath was just as surprised as he was.


A/N: In case you didn't know, the overworld sprite and default name for the tactician is the same regardless of gender. My theory is that 'Mark' stands for 'Marketta'.

Thanks for reading!