A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

There was a cheer at that. An odd sort of cheer. It wasn't the cheer of soldiers, filled with morale. It wasn't even especially a loud cheer, but it was firm. The ort of cheer that might be accompanied by clenched fists and gritted teeth. There was resolve in this cheer.

Oliver knew from that cheer, that if these people had to fight again, they would, and with far less hesitation than they had the first time. They'd become battle-hardened in a way that was distinctly different from the soldiery.

"A strong village, this is," Oliver said. "I am proud of it. Immensely proud. I can not think of anywhere else I would have preferred Lord Blackwell send me. We have fought together, and bled together. We are not a Lord and underlings.

We're a united army of Solgrim."

The cheers arose again, stronger this time. Oliver could feel Command on the tip of his tongue, though he hadn't yet intended to use it. The villagers were drawing it out of him, feeding on the connection that they had.

"As I am gone, Solgrim will continue to grow," Oliver said. "You've already seen the expansion on the walls, and our new lot of soldiers, but there will be more growth still. We are snatching strength for ourselves. Solgrim shall not need to rely on the aid of any outsiders.

It shall be capable of being fully independent, so that no matter what arrives at our walls, we will always have the tools to send the enemy back."

"To that end, I need your assistance," Oliver said. "Naturally, with an excess of growth, there is a lack of unity. You see it in the cities. Too many strangers arrive, and rifts form. That cannot be allowed to happen here. This is our Solgrim, your Solgrim.

Any outsiders must conform to your will. They must carry on the heart of our people, or else they are not one of us. Solgrim is not a mere village – it is a military encampment. It must remain strong, if we are to rely on it."

Oliver was pleased to see resolute nods from the villagers. On this point, with Oliver so far away, there would be nothing that he could do to ensure unity as the village grew. That point would be left entirely down to the villagers that still remained behind. Oliver believed in the need for unity in a village, just as he believed in the need for it in an army.

The winds predicted hardships, and he would not have his people suffer unnecessarily.

"I have asked things of you, now I shall state what I shall bring in return," Oliver said. "My achievements are your achievements, and your achievements are mine. Even apart, we are one. On this campaign, I shall not be a mere number. I shall bring you victory, in Solgrim's name. You will hear tales of the heads that I claim, and then you will hear tales of the victory that we wrought."

"I will tell you this, my people," Oliver said, "that which has not been yet understood by the masses. Blackwell did not fail on this campaign. He was ill-supplied with men. He was outnumbered three to one, and yet he still secured three castles. That is a Lord that I am proud to serve, yet he is mocked, despite his achievements.

Now, again, we shall enter this campaign outnumbered, perhaps two to one, perhaps more. The odds are most certainly against us, but that is not acknowledged. It need not be. There are many that wish to see Lord Blackwell fall, and he sets us up to fall with him. We will not allow that."

It was no surprise that bitterness arose to the faces of the villagers. They, like much of the peasantry, were not great fans of the higher powers. They were never assisted by them, after all. The Silver King who was meant to rule their lands – they'd never seen hair nor hide of him. He might as well not have existed. The same was true of the High King.

To hear that such highly placed people were making their lives difficult came as no great surprise.

"Victory," Oliver said solemnly, thumping his fist against his heart. "For all of us."

"VICCTORYYY!" The villagers echoed, along with the soldiers that had gathered to join. They very much seemed a military unit, shouting as such. The resolve was firm, even if their place was not on the battlefield, they all seemed willing to do their part.

Oliver stepped away, concluding his speech at that. He nodded at Nila to take the platform after him. She knew it had been coming, but still, she blanched anyway. She'd been so thoroughly caught up in Oliver's speaking, that it took her a second to right herself, as she went towards the same platform as Oliver.

"Very good, my Lord," Verdant whispered to Oliver as he settled in beside him. "I do suppose you to be perhaps that only noble with such a connection to even the peasantry. They are as determined as a pack of warriors."

"I can only hope that they will hold in my absence," Oliver replied in a similar whisper.

"Uhmm," Nila said, coughing into her hand, as she evaluated the crowd, scanning them with her eyes, until she found some faces that she was more intimately familiar with. There were her store employees from her butchery, and then when she looked even further, there was her mother, with Stephanie clinging to her leg.

Nila couldn't see her little brother, but she supposed that he would be around, somewhere, pretending to be growing up.

She cleared her throat, and sucked in a deep breath, adopting the same mannerisms that she'd come to use when running her company. "As Ser Patrick has said, I will be overseeing the village in his absence. You know me well enough, and you know you can come to me with whatever problems you have, no matter how trivial.

Together, we will ensure that Solgrim continues to grow, as our Ser Patrick wishes for it to. We shall be our own strength, as we always have been. I look forward to working with you all again."