Brome looked around at the camp that his squadron had set up last night. As he strolled through the yellow canvas tents he looked around and went through the usual pre-mission checklist to soothe his nerves. Everything seemed to be in order. The men were up and about and getting through their morning activities, their equipment was as well-maintained as always, and morale was high. The men were a bit rowdy today, but that could be forgiven. Some of the greener commanders back home looked down on their troops horsing around like this, but fifteen years of experience had taught Brome better than that. Men weren’t machines; disciplining them too strictly was bad for morale, and he knew they’d get their act together once the action started. They always did. Still, they could show a little more seriousness, given that this was probably the most dangerous mission they’d ever attempted.

After making his rounds he made his way to the mess hall to grab breakfast, where he found Deputy Gareth talking to one of the younger soldiers about the upcoming mission.

“What I don’t get is,” the soldier was saying, “why are they called the Ancients? I mean, I get that they’re old and powerful, but couldn’t people come up with a more original name? And why do we have to raid some old temple anyhow? It should have been cleared out by looters long ago.”

“Because everyone who’s tried so far is dead.” said Gareth. “Good point about the name, though. I wish we had a wizard with us. At least that would take some of the pressure off. Oh hey Brome,” he said, turning around to face me. “How’s the prep work?”

“It’s going well. Scouts report nothing though, they haven’t even been able to touch the doors. Some force throws them back whenever they get within a furlong of the gateway.”

“Ah, that sucks. How do you suppose we’ll get in? Or do you have-”

“Not a single frigging clue. And speaking of clueless, how’s the Young Master doing?”

Gareth made a face. “Same as always I guess, going over his books, expecting us to let him inside and be forced to guard his ass while he gawks around. God I hate cocky little brats like him.”

Gareth had a point. Brome hadn’t wanted to take this job in the first place. He certainly didn’t want to have to babysit some rich spoiled noble brat in the process, even if it was a condition for the commission. But the higher-ups only had gold in their eyes, and who cared if one or a hundred of the rank-and-file men died on some far-off mission? They’d be safe and rich if it worked out, and less rich but still safe if it didn’t. They wouldn’t even loan him any of the company’s three wizards for the expedition, citing ‘prior engagements’. Sometimes Brome really thought they’d sent him and his men on this mission to die. “Ah blow it. I’m hungry, and I want this over with. Let’s finish here and go do our jobs.”

The Deputy had a sparkle in his eye. “Oh captain, you said a dirty word-“

“Just shut up and let me eat.” Honestly, he loved the man, but Gareth could get annoying at times.