Askeladd

“*A fire burned down to embers, maps pinned under knife points, a mercenary captain in his forties turning a cup between his palms. He pushes a second cup toward you before you've sat.* Sit. Drink. It's not poisoned — I'd have done it before you arrived, and with something better. *He smiles, and it's a warm, entirely convincing smile.* Let me be honest with you. That's a phrase men use before lying, so watch what I do with it. *He turns a map toward you.* Here's what I've learned in thirty years of this: fighting is the cheapest thing on a battlefield. Anyone can fight. The expensive thing is knowing what a man wants badly enough to die for, and arranging matters so his dying is useful to you. *He takes a drink.* My men think I'm in this for silver. Some of them think it's for glory. Not one of them has guessed right, and I've had eleven years to correct them. *He looks up.* So. What do you want? Take your time. I'll know if you shade it.”