As I mentioned in the QA thread you four are new recruits into the Crimson Falcons, a Free Company unlike any other, in that it is not beholden to any of the nations that make up the continent you call home. If you have questions regarding the Company, the leader, or anything else, feel free to post in the QA thread and I will address as able. For now though, this post will serve to set the stage for character introductions and a bit of group roleplay.

Your first official day as a Crimson Falcon you are lead into a spacious conference room. A mahogany table surrounded by 7 matching chairs and a larger, more ornate chair at the head of the table takes up a sizable portion of the room. Aside from the double doors you have been lead in through there is a single door at the eastern end of the room behind the ornate chair, and another door at the western end. Your guide, an attractive Elvaan woman in a vibrant red dress and corset turns back to you and says, "Please take a seat at any of the smaller chairs and wait here, our founder and leader, Echario le'Rouge, will be along shortly to meet you and introduce himself. In the meantime feel free to chat amongst yourselves and get comfortable, you four will be spending a lot of time together after all." She turns to leave, pauses, and turns back to add in passing, "The pantry in the corner," she points to the southwestern corner, "contains various drinks and sundry snacks if you are interested, though please try not to empty it like the last group." With that she turns and leaves, closing the double doors behind her and leaving you to your own devices.

The contents of this pantry are left intentionally vague, as I leave what you take up to you, be it a beer, a chocolate bar, assorted nuts and dried fruits, snack cakes, whatever. The pantry is a grab-bag of whatever your character may prefer. You may also choose to ignore the pantry all together, if that is more in line with your character's personality to not take something he feels he has not earned, or whatever the reason may be.

Simon honestly couldn't decide if somebody was trying too hard, or not hard enough. True enough, a big name like Echario le'Roughe didn't need to impress the rabble he was recruiting from, but the effort was so token, so devoid of subtlety, that it was almost offensive.

Or it would be, if most of the people being shuttled in and out of these rooms weren't as dense as the table they would be seated at. He turned his gaze towards his (for the moment) companions and took stock.

One Hume, rugged look, medium build. Clearly an outdoorsman.

Another Hume, fairly nondescript. Almost unremarkable, save for the sprite that followed him around like a little lost chicobo.

One humanoid. Al Bhed, by the smell of machine oil about them. Possibly a mechanic. Possibly just an Al Bhed.

First impressions: None were obviously stricken dumb, or overwhelmed. None were obviously pretentious and aloof. None were overtly nervous or indecisive.

None were moving or speaking yet either, presumably taking a moment, as he did, to take stock of the situation, and the others with them.

Useless, easy observations, but ones that ever so slightly improved Simon's attitude towards this whole thing. At first glance, the group appeared to be at least competent, and thats all he asked for from others.

Bringing his rambling thoughts to their conclusion, Simon moved to the pantry, finding for himself a small supply of nuts and water, then seated himself at the middle of the table, on the north side. He always felt more comfortable with his back to a wall, though he couldn't quite remember why.

He shrugged, and began the process of waiting. If there was to be smalltalk, he would participate, but he had no intention of starting conversation himself. Simon preferred to spend the time contemplating what he knew of their host. He was very curious to what le'Rouge would be like in person; whether his reputation was deserved. Something about the man, and the mental image his name provoked, was familiar.

Not that that helped. Everything was familiar.

(((OOC: Ok, done what I can with what I assume to be general knowledge any person might have, and the one line descpriptions in the Q&A thread. If I've inadvertantly stepped on toes, please let me know so I can edit my post. However, keep in mind that so far, its all in Simon's head, and he's aware its mostly baseless conjecture and could be very wrong.)))

Gelion Greyflood looked around the room to which he and the other new recruits were brought. It was a basic conference room, with the predictable throne at the head of the table. It might be a free company, but Echario le'Rouge so far gave little indication that he was any different than the rulers of the other nations and companies. As this thought crossed his mind, Gelion grinned a bit inwardly while adding the mental note that he was, perhaps, reading a bit much into one big chair.

The Crimson Falcons were a "Free Company." That idea appealed to Gelion. He liked the flexibility it suggested. He'd have struck out on his own, but the world was an easier place if you had money, a job, and a little bit of backing. Le'Rouge's Crimson Falcons seemed to offer that. But who would be free? The company was free. Did that mean only its leader? To what extent was he expected to be a "good soldier?" How much freedom would those within the company have? He's spent some time in other companies, so he was willing to admit that a degree of organization was needed for it to be a "company." But he didn't need to come here just to join a military. So what did "free" mean?

As these thoughts flitted quickly across his mind, he looked around at his companions. It seemed likely that he would spend some time with them. Two Humes and an Al Bhed. And a sprite. A sprite? He didn't really know what to make of that, so he decided to just wait and see. An Al Bhed? That would be interesting. Technology was not his thing. He liked his bow. Weapons didn't get much more old school than that. Well, maybe rocks, he thought with a smile. Still, the idea remained. He had nothing against either Al Bhed or tech, he just didn't know much.

When their Elvaan guide left, Gelion got up and moved to the cupboard. He didn't take a lot, but had no problem finding a quick lunch/snack. It was being provided by "his" company after all, and he knew from experience that it was usually wise to grab a bite when and where you could. He took a bit of wine, but watered it down so as not to drink too much. City water was sometimes questionable and the wine made it palatable. He added a hearty roll, some fruit and nuts - and chocolate. He hadn't expected that, but couldn't pass up the treat. It wasn't much, but his stomach wouldn't be rumbling through the meeting.

Getting his food and sitting down at the table, he introduced himself to his companions. There was no sense sitting in silence - if this was to be his platoon, these were people he would need to get to know and upon whom he would need to depend. No sense wasting time.
"Hey. I'm Gelion Greyflood, an archer originally from the north of Orinthal. I've spent the last couple of years with a company out of the Orinthal city of Newmark. I came here for a little freedom and, hopefully, a chance to track some goblins in the North. What brings the rest of you to this table? Anybody know anything about Echario le'Rouge and how he runs this company? "

His robes were dirty, a bit travel worn, and had definitely fared much better. Tuman's robes were belted closed at the waist and were fitted loose; beneath them lay a jerkin of studded leather over a set of normal clothing. With every step into the room, he could feel the morningstar that hung from his belt tap again and again against his leg. Though he knew not the manner of wielding the weapon nor was familiar with the wearing of the armor, the bandit he had taken them from had no longer any use of them. Besides, the man probably did not know the extra properties of the weapon; Tuman had been able to sense its properties and had quickly figured out their manner. Soft-soled leather boots made little noise with the steps into the woman.

Tuman was a person who kept to himself, he did not these persons and they did not need to know him. Secrets were meant to be kept. If they had known what about him had brought him here, they perhaps would not be so friendly to him. Either way, he could not return to the Academy; that place was forever lost to him. He kept his hood up, to keep his face hidden and more importantly the tattoos of runes on the side of his head until his hair could grow to hide them. Not many bore the marks. His hand ran momentarily to the stubble that was on his face. It was from the days of travel on the road, unfamiliar to run that had never let it grow before. Tuman was still young enough that it had a hard time growing in fully or very quickly for that matter.

Elwyss, he could feel the sprite's displeasure as she had been hidden in the inner part of his robes until now. This had kept her out of site but at hand. He couldn't risk the discovery of who he was until he was sure that he was in safe company. Tuman did not know those he was with now, but assumed that they were as safe to be with as anybody was at this moment. Besides, his companion NEEDED the time to be free a bit as she flitted about his person. She was an extension of him, and he was normally a bit more saddened when she was unhappy.

Now for his companions. They were all hume with one being Al Bhed. He always wondered if the Al Bhed were just another race of hume or their own separate race altogether. Tuman supposed it did not much matter at the moment. The other two, one seemed like he could know a bit and the other a bit rugged, an outdoorsy type. Perhaps time would tell what exactly brought this group together. Were they running from something like he was? Were they seeking glory? Everybody had their own motives.

The elvaan woman led them to a conference room where they would be meeting with the man that led this free company. Echario le'Rouge, a name he had heard not. Even so, Tuman was an academian and not one who kept current on the news or ways of the world. This little jaunt into the world was his first time beyond the walls of his academy in several years, before he had reached the age of ten. The pantry had been opened to them, but they were to take in moderation. With his gaunt form, Tuman had never needed much to sustain himself, so a simple chunk of bread and a bit of dried meat was all that he needed. He had his own rations in his pack, but why use his own when this had been offered to and placed in front of him.

The woodsman sat down at the table and was the first to speak, "Hey. I'm Gelion Greyflood, an archer originally from the north of Orinthal. I've spent the last couple of years with a company out of the Orinthal city of Newmark. I came here for a little freedom and, hopefully, a chance to track some goblins in the North. What brings the rest of you to this table? Anybody know anything about Echario le'Rouge and how he runs this company? "

The man seemed friendly enough, but could Tuman trust him. "Tuman. Where I hail is of little import. Just a lost soul that has turned to the road."

And here he waited.

Yohn piped in after Tuman, the large Al Bhed still working at fixing himself a snack. "I'm Yohn. Though, most of me friends call me ‘Puff'. A lil' easier t' say, suppose."

Yohn walks back to the table with a well layered, double high, club house sandwich and a pitcher of milk. Squeezing his 280 lbs frame into one of the chairs proved to be a bit of a feat, but the Al Bhed managed it well enough and didn't spill any milk.

"Lookin' t' put a lil' scratch t'gether, if y'know what I mean," he continued after taking a bite of the sandwich. "Falcons got a fine ‘nough track record, I figure. An' figure the Falcons might take me on t' keep their machinas well oiled an' such. Heard they got themselves a whole mech squad and a few airships t' boot. Lookin' forward to slidin' me creeper under one them boys."

Yohn took a swig from the pitcher of milk and then another bite of the sandwich. "How ‘bout you?" Yohn asked, looking at Simon. "What should we be callin' you?"

OOC: I know "Yohn" looks like it would just be pronounced like "Yawn" or something similar, but the Al Bhed translator has it listed as pronounced like "AEohn-ha". Puff seems slightly easily. Feel free to call him either though... he'll respond to both.

Gelion looked around at the group of new recruits. It seemed to be an odd lot.

Two Hume's that seemed to prefer silence and secrets along with a Puff. Seriously? He didn't know what seemed stranger to him, the silent Hume's or the Al Bhed that seemed like he should be the owner of a tavern, not a seeker of adventure. But on first impression at least, it was the giant Puff that struck Gelion as the friendliest of the bunch. Not that he had much competition.

Were these to be his companions in the new unit? Or would the new recruits be dispersed among more experienced groups? He didn't know, but if he was to work with these 3 he hoped at some point they would open up a bit more. It wasn't that they couldn't have secrets, he supposed he had a few of his own when it came down to it, but the whole "man of mystery" charade would get old very quickly. But it was best not to judge on so little information.

As he waited for the silent one to respond to Puff's enquiry about a name he added, "if you wish your past to remain shrouded in darkness that is your call, but it may well be that our futures are intertwined. Any light you could shed on our leader or this company might be of help. I have been in other companies, but know little of this one."

It was with a small, but genuine laugh that Simon replied to the woodsman. "I assure you, Greyflood, that darkness is not what shrouds my past." He again surveyed his companions, nodding at each. "I suppose its nice to meet you, or it has been so far. As to your question," Simon elaborated, turning to face Gelion again, "I know nothing more than his reputation, and that could be learned at any tavern from here to yon."

Simon stopped speaking long enough to drink, then continued. "I was actually contemplating that very thing. I am looking forward to actually meeting our illustriouis employer, and discovering where the rumors exaggerated, and where they fell short of reality."

He then added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and I am called Simon."

After your short and somewhat awkward introductions the four of you continue to wait and enjoy the refreshments you have chosen from the pantry for this impromptu meet and greet. After an unknown length of time, as there are no windows or time pieces in this room, the double doors you were lead in through swing open once again and the Elvaan maiden who guided you four into this conference room steps in with another new recruit, this one a Ronso, who despite her stature walks with a practiced grace and seems as though she would be more at home in the shadows. Once again the guide prompts the newest addition to the room to take a seat and wait, and suggests she help herself to the pantry just as she did the 4 men now gathered around the table.

((Fey feel free to post a small intro as well when you get a moment, but I'm going to go ahead and move forward with this as everyone has been waiting so patiently.))

Finally, after what may have only been minutes, or may well have been hours, the door at the eastern end of the conference swings open and sauntering through the door comes a hume standing just over six feet tall, his figure muscled without being what some may consider buff. Long jet-black hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail and his face is adorned by a well trimmed short beard. The muffled jingle-jangle of chain can be heard beneath his finely tailored black silk shirt over which he wears an expensive-looking crimson vest and hooded cloak, on his left hip hangs a finely crafted and enchanted rapier, and from his right hip there hangs an ornate rod, which is easily recognizable as a Power Rod to any familiar with the weapons. Sapphire-blue eyes scan the room, taking measure of each of you before he speaks, his voice smooth and full of confidence and pride, "Welcome friends, to our illustrious nest, our home away from home, our safe-haven from the treacherous, wild world of political turmoil. As you five may well have guessed by now, I am the head of this ever-growing flock, the famous, or infamous depending on who you ask, Echario le'Rouge. Years of adventure, of life following the rules of others, of being a pawn in the great political game has taught me that the only way to be free of these games is to remove yourself from the board all together, which is exactly why I founded this organization; it is my hope that our very existence will inspire others, be they pawn or player in these games, to move away from the endless strife and find a better way!" He scans over the small gathering once again, clearly making quick mental notes based on initial impressions before continuing, "We are a diverse lot, we all have our own goals, dreams, and reasons for being here, and rest assured that you will be affronted plenty of time to pursue your own goals as well as helping to further the goals and reputation of the Falcons which you have chosen to join with this day. As you may have gathered, you five will be working together, but you will not be expected to do things alone." He reached back and raps on the solid door behind him 3 times and a lupine figure steps through the threshold and into the room, no visible weapons or armor adorn his muscled figure, his fur showing bits of gray giving away the fact that he is no fresh adventurer like yourselves. "Nam here may not be much for conversation, but he will shadow you on your first few jobs just to make sure everything goes well and to take stock of your teamwork and synergy. His presence does not excuse reckless or careless behavior though, he will only step in if it becomes clear that the job was too much for your team to handle, and only to prevent loss of life. It's bad for business and our reputation if new recruits get themselves killed on their first jobs, you see..." The Varg, Nam he was called, glances around the room himself and gives a silent nod of agreement to the statements that have just been issued by the Company's leader. Adjusting his silver glasses le'Rouge once again speaks, "Now I'm sure you all have questions before moving on to your first job, so we will now open the floor to you for some quick questions to satisfy your curiosity."

Silvira followed the Elvaan woman admiring her dress and the graceful way it flowed with every step. I would look ravishing in a dress like that. As pretty as blood on snow Indeed a red dress would look much like blood flowing around Silvira's lithe form. Silvira's fur was mostly blue like snow in the moonlight with patches of white around her wrists and her shoulders. Her walk was very graceful like a dancers leading with the point of her feet and rolling onto the balls of her feet. She walked on the balls of her feet rarely letting her heel touch the ground, as though she were born wearing heels. Though no heels were made which would fit her clawed feet. Staying on her toes gave her 5 foot 9 inched height an extra 2 inches allowing her to tower over even most men. Her right claw idly drummed the pommel of her Katana hanging on that hip and adorning her left hip was a flail tightly tied together so that it wouldn't trip her up. Strapped to her back was a large crossbow. She wore breeches and a shirt that didn't quite cover her midriff. Her ears were pierced and sported feather earings. Her silver mane was braided and hung over her right shoulder bouncing just below her collarbone. As she entered the room behind the Elvaan woman she quickly scanned the room noting the doors and the table arrangement. She also noted the fellows who already occupied the room. Seems like I'm late to the party. She smirked Well now that I have arrived the party may start She almost skipped into the room allowing the smirk to spread into a smile.
"I'm Silvira Rundir Ronso" She said pleasantly in a voice that was crisp and an accent missing out on the rumble usually found in Ronso speech. "Pleased to meet you all" She didn't grab anything from the pantry preferring to address business before pleasure in case the pleasure made business unbearable. Silvira perched in the seat opposite the large chair watching everyone with bright yellow eyes.

Gelion Greyflood looked up as the Elvaan woman reappeared. She brought with her a Rondo that was tall and looked, as her kind tended to, powerful and graceful at the same time. Somehow in the face of races like the Rondo or Vargs, Gelion always felt that Humes came off as awkward apes who had fallen out of their trees. It wasn't really true, of course, Hume's could hold their own with the other races, but no matter how coordinated they might be they just didn't convey the same sense of grace. Ah well, he thought as he watched the graceful lady glide into the room, let them underestimate me. Perhaps that is my advantage, nobody thinks a hairless ape can be graceful.

After the Rondo had introduced herself, Gelion returned her smile. "Greetings Silvira Rundir Rondo," he said with a nod to the room's newest entrant. "My name is Gelion Greyflood. Welcome to our little group. You haven't missed much; at this point we have simply had a snack while awaiting the arrival of "the man." Simon here," he said, indicating the other man with a nod, "and I were just discussing our lack of knowledge of him. "

When Echario le'Rouge entered the room, he seemed to match the descriptions Gelion had heard. Echario's description of the Falcons and his attempts to evade the "great political game" made the young archer smile. Evade the game? The man must realize that such was impossible. Even a place such as Stone Bridge, which prided itself on its sense of freedom, played the game. The rules and the players might be less fixed, but there were still those with power, those with money, those with influence and those without. There would be games to be played on any stage, and a man like Echario and a group like the Falcons would be forced to play them, whether they wished it or not. Did he honestly believe that a great free company could exist outside of the political machinations of the 4 nations? No, you were still a piece on their board. As usual when such thoughts sped their way through the inner confines of the Archers head, he stopped them before they worked their way out of his mouth. It was likely that now was not the time to be offering the great man a primer on politics.

Still, when Echario opened the floor for questions Gelion could not resist. He did not think of himself as a leader and doubted he would end up the spokesman for the group, but if there were questions to ask he wasn't going to sit back, be silent and watch the opportunity disappear. He figured he might as well be the first to open his mouth again. "Thank you for allowing me to join the Falcons. Being a pawn in someone else's political game is not something I have enjoyed, and I appreciate what this company seems to offer. But, in truth, we seem to know only rumor - what sort of "business" will we be embarking on? With whom can you sign a contract and yet avoid getting dragged into their game?" Even as he said these last lines Gelion groaned a bit inwardly. So much for stopping it before it came out of his mouth. Still, while it might not have been the best way to phrase the question, it was something that needed asking. What jobs would he be asked to do? With whom would his name be associated? At this he paused, knowing further questions were useless until the group had a clue what they were getting themselves into.

Yohn piped up after his new colleague. "Yeah, I be wonderin' the same... what you have in mind for us t' be doin'? An' pay, what we be lookin' at that in that regard?"

When Eschario le'Rouge walked into the room, Tuman took in the man's figure. Definitely larger than he was, but a man's size did not give him worthy measure. He was a warrior, that much was for certain, and could channel the forces that governed the arcane if the power rod that hung from his belt meant anything. Some might consider Tuman a warrior himself, though of a different kind. He used his mind and willpower over the muscles of his physical body. They had kept him alive this far in his fleeing from the academy. Though he was in an unfamiliar place, this man could prove to be his saving grace.

A grand speech followed his entrance, claiming about how he was free from the influence of the Great Nations and the Grand Companies. Nobody was ever free from the influence of others. Oncec a string was tied to you, it was always there. It may become harder to pluck, but for certainty, it was still there. He notified that the ones in this room would be a team, that they would be working together. Tuman supposed that none of them knew the arts of casting, so he would be using his skill to heal their wounds. He supposed that there may not be much of his energies left over to harm those that stood against him, but the scholar was okay with that. Lastly, he introduced a Ronso; he had never before seen one of the cat like figures. He would be their guardian.

After his companions spoke, Tuman summoned a few orbs of light that surrounded his upheld hand. (Casting dancing lights) "A chance to start something new is all I ask. I will accept whatever missions you have to offer."

After Silvira attained her seat a Hume that looked like the military was his life was the only one to greet her.
"Greetings Silvira Rundir Ronso," he said with a nod to the room's newest entrant. "My name is Gelion Greyflood. Welcome to our little group. You haven't missed much; at this point we have simply had a snack while awaiting the arrival of "the man." Simon here," he said, indicating the other man with a nod, "and I were just discussing our lack of knowledge of him. "

Silvira lodged the names away repeating them in her mind in a vain attempt to remember them. Friendly bunch she thought to herself as the others sat in silence for what felt like hours but was more likely simply minutes.

"I know nothing of him myself" She replied to Gelion's implied question. "I joined this organization because as a company outside of the Nations it is likely to make history."

Shortly after or perhaps longer, it was hard to tell when one sat across from others staring awkwardly trying to think of conversation, the doors opened and in stepped presumably Echario Le'Rouge. He's tall and handsome for a Hume. She thought watching the man take his seat. He obviously believes in his own strength, but doesn't consider himself safe. She noted the distinctive ring of chainmail under the lavish clothing. Smart man Silvira knew all too well the dangers of assuming you were safe.

"Welcome friends, to our illustrious nest, our home away from home, our safe-haven from the treacherous..." Echario droned on introducing himself and his corp without revealing anything. How can an entity work in the borders of a Nation without being a part of politics? she wondered idly.

Echario reached back and rapped on the solid door behind him 3 times and a lupine figure stepped through the threshold and into the room, no visible weapons or armor adorned his muscled figure, his fur showed bits of gray giving away the fact that he was no fresh adventurer like the party. "Nam here may not be much for conversation, but he will shadow you on your first few jobs just to make sure everything goes well and to take stock of your teamwork and synergy. His presence does not excuse reckless or careless behavior though, he will only step in if it becomes clear that the job was too much for your team to handle, and only to prevent loss of life. It's bad for business and our reputation if new recruits get themselves killed on their first jobs, you see..."

"He won't be needed." Silvira murmured to herself. As the floor was opened to questions Gelion asked the main ones and Silvira listened intently to the answers. Then a round Al Bhed spoke up. He was far larger than one normally encountered on adventures but Silvira learned once that the large ones hated to run so they were either strong or dead. This one was breathing rather heavy to be dead, and his question about pay clearly marked him as a mercenary. Silvira was also a mercenary and so was quite interested in this answer.

"What supplies and resources will we have access to?" She spoke up. Insuring you're prepared for any situation is a good thing. Doing it on someone else's dime is better. "Will you be supplying us with standard gear for uniforms? And if so must we use only your gear or can we bring our own?"

"A chance to start something new is all I ask. I will accept whatever missions you have to offer." A travel worn kid said making lights dance across his palms. A kid! Thought Silvira A squishy mage wasting magic already just so he can look impressive and only looking like an amateur! Maybe we'll need Nam after all She rolled her eyes at the puny display of power.

'At least they seem to know what they're about.'

Such was Simon's reaction to his companion's questions after their employer's speech. Good, practical questions. Little bravado or swagger. Just wanting information to get the job done. Even if, in this case, the job was deciding whether or not to take the job.

He regarded the newest addition to their merry little band. Silvira Rundir Ronso, if you please, and by the look of it itching to start trouble. Well meaning trouble, Simon imagined, but trouble nonetheless. He smiled briefly. Should be interesting to see, and he'd yet to meet the Ronso that couldn't contribute something useful to the group. No complaints there.

His gaze drifted back to the man of the hour, Echario le'Rouge. He didn't buy it, not one bit. Only fools and idealists believed they could accomplish something like this. Or rather, that such a thing was possible. Any piece could leave the game, especially one as powerful as this man was purported to be. One did not accomplish this, however, by gathering others of power into a group under one's command. If nothing else, it would make you a target, which again, anyone who wasn't a fool or idealist should realize.

The man was rumored to be too experieced for this kind of blind idealism, and was too alive to be this much a fool. Simon spent a brief moment wondering as to the man's true motives, and whether or not it was all in his own head.

He smiled to himself. Why not try the direct route? It surprised people to no end. And whether Simon's mental meanderings where just his imagination, or something more accurate, le'Rouche's reaction would tell him something of the man, even if it was only how he handled idiotic questions. Learning something of someone was almost never a waste of time.

Waiting for the initial questions to die out, Simon slipped his into the silence before an answer could be given. "What, pray tell, is the purpose of the Crimson Falcons? It is all well and good to remove ourselves from the board, but without a more tangible goal to strive towards, I fear our endeavors may be doomed to failure. Could you tell us what that goal is?"

Echario let a knowing smile slip across his face, "You four do not disappoint, it is nice to get recruits with deep, thought-invoking questions such as these." He let out a quick chuckle before answering the questions posed by the curious recruits, "We will take nearly any contract, what truly sets us apart from other free companies is that we are not at the beck and call of any one single nation, this allows us more freedom to accept jobs another company may not be able to take as well as allows more freedom to pursue personal agendas as well. I admit, you are correct in your thinking, it is not feasible to avoid all political play, but by getting more of our work from the private sector and the common man, we are able to assist our fellow man, as well as earn a living. As to the subject of remunerations, the pay is dependent on the job, but you are free to keep any items you may pick up during the course of a job and put them to use, or sell them as you see fit. You may also trade unwanted gear and supplies in to the company quarter-master for credits you can use to purchase various supplies at a discounted rate. These supplies range from standard fare such as potions of varying potency up to weapons and armor custom crafted by the smiths here. Knowing that everyone requires gear of a different quality we do not impose any sort of standard-issue uniform, you will be provided with an armband to wear across your bicep marking you as a member of the Falcons."

The hume turned his gaze purposely toward Simon, smiling wider than before, "You have the most interesting of questions, one I dare say we do not hear often enough during these sessions. The purpose of this band of like-minded souls is a simple one however, to promote personal freedom in our members and their lives as well as to provide support when needed, and to give our members the means to make some spending money when needed. After your initial mission, which Nam will brief you on later, you will not be required to report for mandatory missions, you will not have to report to any sort of commanding officer, and you will not be forced to anything you do not want to do. The only requirement moving forward from your first mission is that you watch out for each other, that you never leave a fellow Falcon in a tight spot, and that you represent our flock well."

He pauses, glances around the room and adds, "I do hope this has addressed any questions sufficiently, I will of course answer any further questions before turning you over to Nam for your job."