CAUTION: Spoils aspects of Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities, as well as aspects of When Nothing Remains and events of Usurpation of the Darkness through chapter 53.

Seriously, major spoilers here.

Assuming you wish to continue, read on…

Background: Have some tattered scraps of worldbuilding I did while writing the latter two thirds of Usurpation of the Darkness. I went to the trouble of writing them in a story-adjacent format instead of a flat plot document, so it should see the light of day! Even if it is tiny and rather ridiculous. Just imagine these are the few remaining pages of an originally much longer pamphlet.

Training Manual

(for those who can read but are somehow also too stupid to learn from doing)

By Gastar the Eloquently Insulting

Introduction

So you've joined a shady organization with unclear motives and means in search of reliable pay, allies, or meatshields to put between you and your enemies. Hunting dragons was mentioned, and you heard an inspiring speech or recruitment pitch, but that was last night and the hangover has wiped it from your feeble mind. You are lost and confused, and have no idea what you've just signed up for.

Fear not! Seeing as individuals like you make up most of our forces, I, an incredibly intelligent and quick-witted bard, have been commissioned to write an introductory pamphlet for your perusal. As a veteran member of the group you have just joined, you may assume I know everything and can impart all of that knowledge to you with the eloquence that earned me my name.

In other, simpler words, here be the rules. Listen up, numbskulls.

Names

The group of hunters you the reader, or whoever is listening to this being read aloud, which is more likely, have just joined? This group? It doesn't have a consistent name. Yes, I know it's confusing, and will undoubtedly lead to a lot of annoyance when you are trying to brag and/or commiserate. On the other hand – or hook, it's probably a hook – this allows us to happily shed any bad reputation our previous leader may have gained, since succession also means a name change…

But that's not the point of having no set name! Raise your right hand, or dead hand, or hook, and yell aloud whatever name for this group your recruiter gave you. Then think of the most awe-inspiring name you can for what you might call a group of assorted warriors and strategists dealing with the dragon menace for a fee. That name, no doubt horribly basic and simple, might one day be the one everybody uses. The name of the group is attached to the leader, and our innovative system for promotion may one day see you taking up the mantle, though you are no doubt unqualified and will lead us to ruin.

As an example, the current name of our group is the Grim Hunters. If I were to be the next leader, I would discard that name – and all deals made under it, which we'll get into under the topic 'When is Treachery Acceptable?' – and call us something else. The Eloquently Elaborate Ends has a nice ring to it, though less so when I remember that people like you will undoubtedly be stuttering over it. It is tradition to put a part of one's own name into the name of the group, whatever that might be, and taking a name we have used in the past would be problematic for you, but other than that there are no limitations or suggestions.

Promotions, and Why Backstabbing is Optional

You've been recruited by a talented individual, told you have worth, and most likely dumped onto a ship and put to work like a rented mule. Sure, you have the bare necessities, but you want more.

Fear not! Climbing the ranks is easy, so long as you have the guts and bare minimum of intelligence necessary to not climb into a dragon's mouth like a suicidal mole rat, though that approach has resulted in at least two promotions in the past, the trick is to not die in the process of cutting yourself out. There are many rungs of authority available, so as to appease those who just want a title and an extra mug of mead per month, all of which are outlined below.

Grunt: Yes, this is an actual position, and it's the one you probably hold right now. Grunt is a random, regular soldier, warrior, mechanic, blacksmith, sailor, whatever. You have no authority and no power over anyone else, save for what your fists and tiny brain can extract from your fellow Grunts. Plenty of opportunity to be promoted, though! And by opportunity, I mean you will be thrown into the thick of bloody combat. This holds true even if you're something nonviolent like a cook, you would not believe how many of those we lost while fulfilling the Callow Isle Smokebreath Extermination contract.

Grunter: Again, no, I am not making these up. You still have no authority most of the time, but you've survived at least five lethal encounters, and thus probably have talent of some sort. If a higher-ranking individual orders it, you may be temporarily put in charge of a few Grunts. Savor that almost nonexistent taste of power while you can.

Officer: Here we get into the less demeaning titles, though this one is a polite fiction unless some dragon has massacred everyone of higher authority. You are in charge of up to ten Grunts and have some sort of purpose you are expected to carry out without having your hand held. Maybe it's running a forge, or a kitchen, or even dealing with captive dragons, though as a general rule we don't bother with those unless they're properly tamed and working for us. Whatever it is, you got there because you were a Grunter and your officer kicked the bucket, which is common enough that assassination is a frowned-upon method of advancement. The untimely death of one's superiors will happen on its own if you are patient. Once you become an officer, you can switch tasks with another officer, but only once immediately upon promotion. Try to avoid anything to do with cooking, those jobs have the highest turnover rates for some reason.

Commander: You're running a ship, or a fort, or something. Your position is an intermediate one, and only exists where large-scale operations require many Officers, and thus someone to keep them in line. Officers can be promoted to this, but it's not a common position. Most rise directly to…

Admiral: It's a fancy title, and it's a fancy job. These skilled few are each in charge of an entire part of keeping the entire group afloat and alive. Whether it's Supplies, Armada, Information, or one of the many more esoteric branches of the group, you are someone important. Thor have mercy on us all. This job also comes only through death of the predecessor, but the other current Admirals all choose from the officers. This is where most Grunts imagine themselves ending up, but in reality most Grunts die long before being skilled enough to even be considered. You need actual talent to reach this height.

Grisly / Tremendous / Whatever the name of the current leader is: This is the highest rank, the grand poobah, the first among most definitely not even close to equals. Like the name of the group, it changes with every leader. The specifics of acquiring this one are a little more involved than previous ranks. The current Grisly has to die, but that's not all. You have to be an Admiral, and you have to avenge him (or her, we don't bar women and suspect at least one has led in the past, though few remember her tenure thanks to the Titan Wing Changewing Affair). If they're killed by a dragon, slaughter that dragon and its immediate family for good measure. If it's betrayal, make like Dread Emperor Traitorous and betray them right back. If it's natural causes, you'll have to make a grand gesture and maybe offend a few gods. If it's the gods themselves come to strike you down for the aforementioned insults, your successor will either have to fight the gods themselves, or make peace with them since we do need to have a living leader at the end of it all.

Not Looking Like An Idiot

It's a lost cause because you are one, and no amount of coaching will change that.

However, since you will reflect poorly on this organization if you look like an idiot, there is a dress code you will be expected to adhere to at all times, with the exception of hunting a mixed pack of Smothering Smokebreaths and Southern Reptilian Moths. That has only happened twice, so get used to the dress code.

And what is the dress code, you may be wondering? I would say that it is not a method of communicating using an array of soldiers in various arrays of feminine clothing, but to be honest, for you to even be thinking that would require a brain capable of such luxuries as wordplay, and you're likely not that smart.

It's simple. Boots, a tunic with long sleeves, light armor, a helmet, and your weapon of choice. All are supplied, and all more or less alike. Any and all of these may be substituted with a chunk of dragon flesh if necessary, but dying one's apparel is strictly prohibited. Some dragons like certain colors. This rule is for your own good.

After certain incidents, the dying of weapon blades is no longer allowed. Neither is the addition of national flags as a cape, as a handkerchief, or as false eyebrows. No oil-based additives are allowed. If it burns or doesn't cover the vital bits, it goes overboard the first time a superior officer sees it.

Author's Note:

Grimmel's fleet didn't need much development when writing Usurpation of the Darkness, truth be told. They were very much the other, the unknown enemy, and as such without any real inside perspective needed very little internal elaboration. I did this much anyway, just to put my mind at ease, and I suppose I'll have to give them a little more detail if I ever cover anything involving them from a human perspective, in which case this is just enough to go off of.

Also, this entry makes several references to another work of fiction. I'll be curious to see how long it is before someone identifies said work. The references are obvious, but the work isn't exactly mainstream.