[Albion Plane, Porfield Kingdom, Mount Thor, White Lion Stronghold]
The next night, Greem met the team at the eastern stable, a secluded post rarely used.
The air was cold and still. The environment was eerie, with the only sounds being the soft snorting of horses and the creak of leather. Jack and Silas were already there, checking the equipment on two sturdy, dark-coated coursers. Two other figures stood waiting.
The first was a young man, perhaps a few years older than Greem, likely in his early twenties.
He had Jack's sharp eyes and dark hair, but where the father's gaze was weary and calculating, the son's burned with a raw, hungry intensity.
He held himself with the poised arrogance of a skilled duelist, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of a well-made longsword.
Corin. The man had a small reputation among the white lions. Cunning. Reliable. Aggressive on the battleifled.
[Target: Corin. Relation: Son of Jack. Attributes: Strength - 1.8 | Agility - 1.4 | Vitality - 1.8. Skills: White Lion Swordsmanship (45), Horsemanship (30), Literacy (15)... Status: Ambitious. Seeking validation.
Based on attributes only, Corin was stronger than Tyrus and Albert. However, the impressive perk was his swordsmanship. Greem had seen him practice before. He was on par with Vanessa and Jask. He was indeed strong.
The second was a woman, lean and weathered like sun-bleached driftwood. She carried a longbow and a quiver of fletched arrows, her eyes constantly scanning the treeline, missing nothing. Her movements were economical, silent. Anya. She was one of Jask's most elite units. Though her attributes were slightly disappointing, she was the most skilled archer within the group.
[Target: Anya. Designation: Ranger. Attributes: Strength - 1.3 | Agility - 1.8 | Vitality - 1.3. Skills: Archery (70), Tracking (45), Stealth (30), Survival (25)...]
"No names beyond this point", Jack said, his voice low, "You are Ghost One through Five. Mount up. We ride hard and in silence until dawn"
They rode single file, Jack leading, followed by Silas, then Greem, with Corin and Lyra taking the rear. They did not take the main trails, but instead followed dry riverbeds, and sometimes rough paths used by hunters.
The forest was a wall of blackness, but the group was used to it. After all, they were all living in Mount Thor. Navigating difficult terrains was part of their everyday life.
They rode until the first hint of grey touched the eastern sky, then Jack signaled a halt in a dense thicket that offered natural cover.
They tended to the horses in silence, feeding them oats and water.
Only when a small, carefully shielded fire was lit for a quick brew of bitter tea did any talk begin.
It was Corin who broke the silence, his eyes fixed on Greem from across the low flames.
"So you're the one my father is so keen on. The reader, the lucky star. Ragnar's pet" His tone was not openly hostile, but it was probing, testing
"Corin", Jack's voice was a soft warning.
Greem met the young man's gaze, "I go where the opportunities are. Today, that is here"
Corin smirked.
"Opportunity. A polite word for it. We are attacking a mage, a representative of the crown. This isn't one of Ragnar's village-burnings. This requires finesse. Do you have that?"
"Enough", Jack cut in, his tone final, "We are a team. Our survival depends on it. Save your fire for the mage"
Silas, who had been sharpening a dagger with a stone, spoke without looking up.
"The boy is not entirely wrong. This is different", He finally looked at Greem, his eyes flat and cold
The distinction was clear. Ragnar's squad leaders were brutes. Loud, strong, and straightforward. Jack's inner circle was something else: educated, patient, and vicious in a way that was far more insidious. Even though they were weaker in direct confrontations, they were more lethal, more refined.
But before Greem could retort, Lyra spoke: "Don't underestimate him. Alicia, Kael, Ragnar, Jack...Everyone knows his rise did not come from naught. He has been participating in any battlefield he could and from what I heard, wields the sword as well as regular knights"
Greem merely smiled at the praise. The talk continued, until a lesson unfolded.
Corin leaned forward, the firelight dancing in his hungry eyes. "The Black Rose... that's real power. The kind that topples organisations, noble territories...kingdoms even perhpas" He looked at his father, seeking a flicker of approval, "After this, they'll have to give you a higher rank. They'll have to acknowledge us."
Jack sipped his tea, his expression unreadable. "The Rose does not 'acknowledge'. It uses. The more useful you are, the longer you live. Remember that. "
He turned his gaze to Greem, including him in the lesson. "You joined for coin and knowledge. Good. Tangible motives are the easiest to manage. Corin seeks a name. Lyra is indebted to me, hence her presence here. Silas seeks rank and order in the chaos. Understand the motives of those around you, and you will understand what levers to pull"
Greem nodded. That's something the righteous Alicia and Kael could not teach him, since their values differed. As for Ragnar, he was far too simple-minded to unfold manipulations. Jack did not hide his intentions. He was not called the "Black Lion" for no reason. His group shined brighter than he himself did, yet he was not one shred less dangerous than his knight peers.
The more he interacted with the man, the more he felt a kinship. Jack's leadership suited him best.
Black Rose. Politics. Strength...
At the end of the day, there was no such thing as real affiliation in the White Lion Bandit Group, only semblance of contracts for limited duration. Even loyalists would sometimes shift from Alicia's leadership to Jack or Ragnar's factions.
Ultimately, on a battlefield, they stood united. In Mount Thor, they were divided by promises of coins and power;
As the others went to sleep, the cold Lyra stood guard. Greem did not follow the others, but instead quietly started revolutions of his Basic Arcane Meditation Technique.
[Beep! You have completed one cycle of the Basic Arcane Meditation Technique...Proficiency in the technique increases by one. Arcane Power increases slightly...]