Conscription

Marcellus watched as Finn departed, then shifted his attention towards Edwin. He mentally prepared himself for the encounter.

Edwin, known for his unpredictability, often appeared with news or assignments that could significantly change Marcellus's plans or even his path.

Adding to Marcellus's apprehension was the fact that he hadn't seen Edwin since the incident with the Hollow Serpent.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Marcellus stepped forward to meet Edwin. Marcellus felt that whatever Edwin brought to him this time could lead him down new, filled with potential dangers.

Edwin's approach to Marcellus was marked by an air of accomplishment and determination. As he neared, the sunlight glinted off the pieces of armour he carried, their unique craftsmanship immediately apparent. The was a trolley filled with such armour trailing behind him.

"I've finished crafting armour from the Hollow Serpent," Edwin declared, his voice echoing a mix of pride and relief.

The armour, shimmering with a subtle iridescence, bore the distinct markings and textures of the formidable Hollow Serpent, a creature whose materials were renowned for their durability and mystical properties.

Each piece was composed of numerous smaller segments, expertly joined together to allow for fluid movement while providing robust defence.

The breastplate, a central piece of the armour set, was made up of overlapping segments that resembled the scales of the serpent from which they were derived. These segments were artfully shaped to contour the body, providing a snug yet comfortable fit. The overlapping design ensured that any impact would be distributed across multiple segments, greatly reducing the force felt by the wearer.

The guards, upon seeing the armour, gathered around with keen interest. Each piece was a work of art, combining the natural resilience of the serpent's hide with Edwin's skills.

The breastplates were particularly impressive, robust yet surprisingly light, offering protection without sacrificing mobility. The helmets, with their sleek design, provided ample coverage while allowing for a wide field of vision.

Edwin handed out the pieces methodically, assessing each guard's build and stature to ensure a proper fit. The greaves were sturdy, designed to protect the lower legs without hindering movement.

As the guards donned their new armour, a sense of newfound confidence seemed to permeate the air.

They moved with more assurance, testing the feel and fit of the armour, and adjusting straps and buckles. The armour not only served as a significant upgrade to their defence but also as a morale booster, a tangible symbol of their status.

Marcellus watched the distribution with interest, noting the meticulous care Edwin took with each piece.

Knowing Edwin It was clear that this armour was not just protective gear; it was a culmination of skill, effort, and the rare materials provided by the Hollow Serpent, surely Edwin hoped to reap some kind of reward. 

The guards, clad in this armour, were a formidable sight, ready to face challenges with enhanced confidence and capability.

After distributing the segmented armour to the guards present, Edwin approached Marcellus with a new task at hand.

His demeanour was serious, indicating the importance of what he was about to say. "We're short on knights, and there's a chance of dissenters arising," Edwin explained. "I need your help, blackeye, to conscript more men for our defence."

Seeing the urgency in Edwin's request but also curious about the underlying reasons, Marcellus adopted a more inquisitive stance, much like a detective piecing together clues.

"Defense?" Marcellus echoed, his tone probing. "Are you expecting an imminent threat? What's led to this sudden need for more knights? Why are you handing out armour for free?"

Edwin, acknowledging that Marcellus had been out of the loop on many of the island's recent developments, nodded gravely. "There have been rumblings, Blackeye. We've interrogated one of your assailants and uncovered information about potential threats to the island. I've verified the intel myself. It's about being prepared for any eventuality."

His expression was serious, underlining the gravity of the situation. "We need more hands. I am expecting dissenters, and we must be prepared," Edwin added, emphasizing the need for swift action.

Marcellus, his mind working rapidly, pieced together the fragments of information he had. This was the confirmation of the suspicions he harboured. "Is this related to the Hollow Serpent incident or the bounty hunter, or is there something else I am not aware of?" he asked, seizing the opportunity to gather more information.

Marcellus listened intently as Edwin paused, the weight of his next words apparent in his hesitation. Finally, Edwin began to explain, "Yes and no. After we captured the bounty hunters, we ended up in a skirmish. One was killed, and the other was seriously injured but managed to confess, betraying his employers."

Edwin's expression turned grim. "Unfortunately, he lost too much blood and passed out. We tried to treat him, but his recovery was slow. In a moment of desperation, I decided to hunt the Hollow Serpent for its blood, known for its healing properties."

Marcellus's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Hollow Serpent. The use of such a creature's blood was a drastic measure, indicative of the severity of the situation he did not even know it could be used like that.

Edwin continued, "The serpent's blood didn't fully heal him, but it stopped the bleeding, and he eventually regained consciousness. From the information he provided, we've pieced together a troubling painting. The noble who oversees this land is furious about the recent raid on the Hulk. They now coming here to depose the governor and possibly install a new one." there was a slight smirk on Edwin's lips

Marcellus absorbed this information, understanding now the urgency behind Edwin's actions and the need for increased defences. "So, the threat is both internal and external," he noted, "We're dealing not just with dissenters but also with repercussions. The governor intends to negotiate"

"Negotiate?" Marcellus asked

"Yes, exactly negotiate," Edwin confirmed with an ugly smile plastered on his face. "Which is why we need to bolster our forces and be ready for whatever comes. The situation is volatile, and we can't afford to be caught off guard."

Marcellus nodded, understanding the need for caution and preparedness. "I see. So, we're acting preemptively to secure the island. What about the townsfolk?"

Marcellus listened closely as Edwin elaborated on the situation, revealing more about the island's current state. "Some of the townsfolk are already aware of the brewing storm, but not from us. The ones who hired the bounty hunter weren't exactly discreet, so word has gotten around. Most people know there's trouble, but they're likely assuming it's just another pirate conflict. They don't know the full extent of it."

He paused, a hint of concern in his voice. "As a result, some are choosing to leave the island, trying to avoid getting caught in whatever's coming. We need to manage this carefully to prevent panic from spreading."

Edwin's eyes met Marcellus's, emphasizing the gravity of his next words. "That's where you come in, Marcellus. We need individuals capable of handling themselves in a fight, those who can be quickly brought up to speed and join our ranks. We must strengthen our ranks discreetly but effectively."

Marcellus understood the delicacy of the situation. It wasn't just about recruiting; it was also about maintaining a balance of public opinion, keeping the public from descending into chaos while preparing for a potential political upheaval.

"I'll do what I can," Marcellus assured, his voice steady.

"We'll find those capable of helping and prepare them without causing undue alarm."

Marcellus, understanding the gravity of the matter, quickly agreed to help.

The task at hand was clear: to consolidate fighting power on the island, especially among those of fighting age, which meant every man seventeen years and older. This was a significant undertaking, one that required meticulous organization and coordination.

Marcellus couldn't help but reflect on how his day had turned out so differently from what he had planned. He had intended to train Finn in the art of Tenma, a session he had been looking forward to.

However, as the old saying goes, "Man plans, and the gods – or in this case, the boss, Edwin – laugh."

As he interacted with the townsfolk, Edwin chose his words carefully, explaining the situation without inciting fear or panic. He spoke of the need for additional guards to bolster the island's defences, framing it as a precautionary measure rather than a looming crisis. 

His approach was met with varying reactions; some expressed eagerness to defend their home, while others were hesitant, wary of the unknown dangers that might await them

Throughout the morning, Marcellus managed to gather a group of 'volunteers'. They were a diverse bunch: some had prior experience in combat, perhaps as former soldiers or privateers, while others were simply stout-hearted locals willing to stand up for their community. Each person brought a different skill set and level of experience, but all shared a common willingness to protect their island.

Back at the training yard, Edwin and the other guards began the process of integrating these recruits. They were given basic instructions, focusing on essential combat techniques, discipline, and teamwork. Marcellus did not take an active role in this, he merely observed.

Marcellus stood beneath the platform, his eyes locked on the pitiful conscripted men below. They trained if one could call it that, in the gloom of the fading, their movements feeble and uncoordinated. The governor guard's cruel taunts were like a lash in the darkness. Marcellus, with a sense of despair, bore witness to the wretchedness of these coerced recruits, their incompetence and hopelessness a reflection of the unforgiving abyss they were thrown into.

Marcellus mused, his thoughts wandering through his mind.

"I observe them, each faces a worn parchment, etched with the melancholic tale of sadeness. Every line and curve, a narrative of sorrow, sacrifice, and the unwavering burden of duty. I discern the weight of unspoken burdens, the scars of battles waged, and the echoes of tragedies endured. It is a tapestry of suffering, a reflection of a world cloaked in shadows. And in that fragile moment when our gazes intersect, a chill courses down my spine, akin to a gust of icy wind weaving through the forsaken alleyways of a desolate city. I am left to wonder, can they, too, decipher the intricacies of my soul, just as I endeavour to unravel theirs?"

The men, their eyes, once illuminated by the glow of youthful innocence, now bore a haunted quality, as if they had already gazed into the abyss and were irrevocably transformed by that harrowing encounter.

Marcellus wondered, his fingers tracing the hilt of the sword at his side. His own eyes, hidden behind a mask of stoicism, attempted to conceal the turmoil within.

Each soldier, each son, each father, bore their burdens in silence, guarding their vulnerabilities against those who hungered for the ascent of power, ready to exploit any perceived weakness.

Cooks, captains, knights, prefects, nobles, governors, kings, and emperors. In the end, they each played their unique roles, from the humble cooks labouring over fires to the mighty emperors wielding the sceptres of authority.

Marcellus knew that behind the facade of strength and resolve, he, too, carried his own burdens and secrets.

The darkness of his past, the sins he had committed in the relentless pursuit of survival, had become indelibly etched into the recesses of his soul. In those solitary moments of introspection, he couldn't help but wonder if the soldiers below harboured similar questions about their cooks, their commanders, their captains, their knights, their prefects, their nobles, their governors, and their kings and emperors.

Marcellus continued to observe, his mind veiled in uncertainty. He found himself pondering whether, like him, the men were adrift, coerced into a path they did not desire, their loyalty weighed down by nagging doubts about its true significance.

As Marcellus peers into their eyes, he is besieged by a haunting question that lingers in the profound depths of his being: "Can they, too, unveil the hollowness that resides within the hidden chambers of my soul, akin to an ancient tome bound in darkness, awaiting its revelation?"

At that pivotal moment, on a day laden with fateful significance, Marcellus felt the weight of destiny pressing upon him, his very existence poised on the edge of irrevocable charge.