A rock and a hard place....

[`Bishop]

All morning Lieutenant Bishop watched, from the window of the office Kerrak had given him in the tower at the main Barracks in Myrkentown, as wagon after wagon, a caravan of necessities that these lands can no long give it's people. The man should be happy, he should be relieved that these much needed provisions have arrived, that the people will no longer starve, children not going to bed hungry.

But he's not happy. He's far -from- happy. A light frown is plasted across the man's weathered face as yet another wagon load came rumbling into the walls of the Barracks and men moved to unload it.

'Scrapes from the table' - That's the thought running through Bishop's veteran mind. 'Scrapes for the people to fight over, kill over. People need to stand on their own two feet in order to survive, they can't live off the charity of others forever. Especially if there's a future price to be paid.... And what is the price for this kindness?' No one's deemed it necessary to inform the Lieutenant of what price there may be to pay for this boon, this magnanimous act.

That fact troubles him the most. There's -always- a price.

But soon he turns away from his window and returns to his desk, papers and parchments and maps strewn across it's mahogany surface. He'd much rather be at his own command, the former Straka fort north of Myrkentown. A fort he's turned into a fortress, preparing it for whatever may befall Myrken. It would be a place for a last stand if necessary, since Bishop himself had procurred and paid for provisions that would supply the base for months if under seige.

With Kerrak promoting him to temporary Captain of the Brotherhood just the previous evening, Bishop didn't waste anytime with further acquainting himself with what forces were under his direct command, then deciding how to best use those forces of men and horse, sword and lance.

The first order to be sent out would be for road patrols to be doubled, and forest scouting to be intensified. He gave no reason for these orders, none would be required by those receiving them, but in his mind there was a good reason, and the assumption obvious. The Lieutenant was expecting an attack and wanted to be prepared for it, but as to why is anyone's guess. Though, a select few might know.

Once those orders were drawn up and sealed, he set them aside, meaning to have the courier dispatch them later that afternoon, and opened his desk drawer to pull out a hand-rolled cigar. The single candle burning on his desk, which was there for this expressed purpose, was used to light the cigar and Bishop leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his stomach while eyes watched the puff of blue-gray smoke rise to the ceiling.

What Kerrak told him the night before still echoed in the back of his mind and Bishop could only hope that they'd have enough buckets....