"The kind of man I strive to serve beside. Basch," he says, leaning over to hold out a hand. He'll leave the rest of his name and title out; they add nothing if this man does not already recognize him. He likes that, too. Equals in this.
"By your command, then," Basch agrees, returning the firm shake. He's happy to follow this man's lead and only step in if he must. And it's nice to have some optimism on their side.
"Have you much experience with fighting in thick Mist?"
"For generations," Gladio said, smiling to himself. Over a hundred of them. He isn't going to point out that part. Some things were weighty enough numbers that the very knowing of them meant there was something deeper going on. "Been trained since I was a kid."
Ah. Pride in his work, too. And a legacy. Good qualities, together.
"Trained since youth as well, but no pedigree here." He and Noah had learned what they could as children, then enlisted as soon as they could. War was already brewing.
"Pedigrees aren't always useful," Gladio said with a shrug. He had always been expected to follow this path and while he didn't regret it, he knew it could be a burden on others. "People should be able to follow their hearts, but it's not always the sort of thing that happens."
"They should have the opportunity at least," Basch agrees. As his years advance, he's less sure of the wisdom of letting a mere boy determine his life's fate with a rush decision, but he also isn't sure others deciding for him is any better. Still, this man has a good head on his shoulders, and Basch respects that.
He'd noticed the accent, but his hardly fit the country -- and king -- he now served. Far be it for him to guess a man's life by marks of his childhood, and he isn't going to ask.
"I suspect you won't be the last soldier from far reaches to journey to the island. But if we're lucky, their missions will have a clear destination."
It certainly was for him. They were closer to home, he suspected, but the empire was still weak from the war, and chaos at home required careful monitoring. They couldn't spare many. Really, they couldn't spare him, but there was no one else who could do the duty and be trusted with the information.
"Then we better win our way through," Gladio says with a smirk. And he offers his hand out to the other man. "I give you my oath I'm not going down without the win here. For the people we care about."
Basch gives a smaller smile, but he means it, clasping the man's hand. "For the people we care about," he agrees.
They aren't at camp much longer, and sure enough, they're able to bunk together with a few other men. The boat passage isn't long, a week and a half, but it's slow going, the Mist preventing any enhanced travel. Basch spends what time he can on the deck, ends up running training exercises for interested recruits, but he's glad when they hit solid ground again.
Still, it's eerie. There are the tumbling ruins of societies long forgotten, but no sign of modern people. As groups disperse out to various target locations, soon it's quiet, just he and Gladio. Basch's eyes are on the sky.
"We should be able to clear some ground before that storm lets out."
Basch nods. There will be some that need to fall back, and some who need to be tended, and some who need to be coached. There's too much, really, for how few senior soldiers they have.
"We do what we can. Once that's running, we should be able to go farther afield ourselves."
He doesn't want to wait, but he doesn't want to make foolish mistakes either.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
"Together we're going to save the day."
no subject
"Have you much experience with fighting in thick Mist?"
no subject
"Yeah. Most of my life actually."
no subject
“Family business?”
no subject
no subject
"Trained since youth as well, but no pedigree here." He and Noah had learned what they could as children, then enlisted as soon as they could. War was already brewing.
no subject
no subject
no subject
"I guess it did mean I was trained enough to do what needs done."
no subject
But they’d work with what they had.
“Anyone you trained with here?”
no subject
"No. I'm... not local."
His accent may or may not have given that away. Well, clearly not he supposed.
no subject
"I suspect you won't be the last soldier from far reaches to journey to the island. But if we're lucky, their missions will have a clear destination."
no subject
They had their own problems with empires going on.
Do we wanna jump this forward?
It certainly was for him. They were closer to home, he suspected, but the empire was still weak from the war, and chaos at home required careful monitoring. They couldn't spare many. Really, they couldn't spare him, but there was no one else who could do the duty and be trusted with the information.
Yeah that's probably a good idea.
no subject
They aren't at camp much longer, and sure enough, they're able to bunk together with a few other men. The boat passage isn't long, a week and a half, but it's slow going, the Mist preventing any enhanced travel. Basch spends what time he can on the deck, ends up running training exercises for interested recruits, but he's glad when they hit solid ground again.
Still, it's eerie. There are the tumbling ruins of societies long forgotten, but no sign of modern people. As groups disperse out to various target locations, soon it's quiet, just he and Gladio. Basch's eyes are on the sky.
"We should be able to clear some ground before that storm lets out."
no subject
Because he expects some will need to fall back.
no subject
"We do what we can. Once that's running, we should be able to go farther afield ourselves."
He doesn't want to wait, but he doesn't want to make foolish mistakes either.
no subject
"How about we split the area in half, take out what we can, and meet back in, say, a few hours?