The Ordic force busied themselves with the myriad tasks of morning. Soldiers maintained their weapons, looked to the barricades. Morrowan precursors performed their devotions. The Bad Cat was awakened again, fires banked but ready to be stirred to life should the battlefield services of the old Nomad be required. The officers, however, were embroiled in a heated discussion.
"You don't want us to move anywhere?" asked Jarl? His eyes were wide and his voice a trifle unsteady. "Solomon, the enemy is certainly aware that we are here after yesterday's actions. Are you saying we should simply await their retribution?"
Slowly, Solomon shook his head. "Not as such, though that's certainly a possibility. Morrow has revealed to me that we are where we need to be. He didn't elaborate as to why, but we need to be here." This was a common Brucker failing. Faced with someone who questioned his decision he'd simply repeat his motivations, as though he didn't really have a choice.
"So, we are just going to...wait?" asked Jarl. He'd crossed the line into scorn. Jardon made a mental note to talk to him about that after the conference. It wouldn't do to take such a tone in front of the men. Bad for morale and all that. "How long?"
At this question Solomon looked uncomfortable. "I don't, exactly know, but I'm sure I'll know when it's time to leave." Jarl theatrically dropped his jaw and the Ordic warcaster nodded. "Ok, yeah, I wouldn't want to here that either. How about this, if noon comes and nothing has happened the unit can head off."
Jarl hadn't had Jardon's experience with the Ace of Heroes, so he believed him. He swore a bit more, then moved off. Jardon spoke quietly to Brucker. "So, what will we really do at noon, if nothing has happened yet? Jarl speaks for more of the men than you'd like to believe."
Brucker looked at him, expressionless. "The unit will head off, just like I said."
