Longa Desert, Corenites' Headquarters //Status: Intermissioned into Complete

It was night time in the desert. Nearly everyone not out on assignment except the night watch on patrol and Kenelm "Ghost" Morgan were asleep in their respective quarters.

The door to the leader's office stood half open. Inside, Kenelm could be seen sitting behind the desk, decked out in his mithril armor, tending to various administrative duties, and rereading the crime scene reports on the string of homicides he was investigating.

Before Kenelm could begin reading latest update report, he noted the sounds of the far door in the corridor outside the office.

Entering the HQ had been easy enough.

A man approached the customary entrance into the underground tunnels of the Longa Desert, colloquially known as Ant Hell. The leader of the Corenites had suggested the desert for both logistic and sentimental reasons, but the garb he wore now was ceremonial of his position. The loose desert cloak was tattered by design, and covered in various sand patterns. It was more well designed than those of the Corenite volunteers.

The night watchmen had recognized the garb. Only one bandit had garb like that, and after a few questions and surprised expressions, followed by some mixed emotions, they allowed him to pass into the base.

The Dunewyrm figured that his Second would be in the office so well designed for this sort of duty. He made his way to the office down the familiar corridors and, after lightly knocking, entered.

"Kenelm," Zachary Dellinger smirked. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

While the Dunewyrm came down the corridor outside the office, Kenelm skimmed through the latest update report on the homicides in Uladh. Afterward, he looked up as Zachary knocked and entered.

"That it has, Master Dellinger," Kenelm warmly replied through his helmet.

Before continuing, Kenelm lightly pressed a button under the lip of the desk to close and lock the door. Once the door had closed, he removed his helmet.

"How shall we go about transitioning you back into the leader's position, and transitioning myself, the Ghost, back into second chair?" Kenelm asked half rhetorically, as he quickly answers part of the question himself. "It will take a day or two to debrief you on everything that has happened during your hiatus."

"Woah, woah," the man replies, chuckling just a tad. "No questions about where I went, or what I did? And you still see me fit to lead an organization I left to fend for itself for six year?"

He took a step to the side and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Either way, if I'm to take command again, I believe it'll take me a tad longer than a day or two. Maybe a week, tops." He smiled. "But either way, I assume the Corenites are used to you leading. Replacing you so quickly might cause confusions, headaches, and problems with morale, especially if whatever has happened in my absence is still being actively dealt with."

Kenelm chuckles with his good friend, "I understand the transition can't happen too fast. Besides, we both hail from worlds experiencing dark times under the leadership of corruption--albeit different flavors."

"When the council had originally lost track of you, we had figured you'd gone after Lucius, who, as far as we know, is still in the wind," Kenelm explains, diving into the debrief with a summary of events. "Six months after that, I assumed control as we had not heard from you.

Once the one year mark had come around, a good portion of the resultant fallout from the mess Lucius created had blown over or had been cleaned up. It was another two years before operations returned to normal, and the transition to guarding trade caravans was completed.

During that two years, Mithos went off the deep end. Since we were too busy with internal affairs, all we could do was watch closely. The Tuatha Dé and Milletians outside our organization managed to defeat him, and permanently detain him after about three years.

Over the course of this last year, there have been a string of homicides on Uladh. Most of the dead were confirmed to be children of Milletians. This latest report I finished skimming before you entered says that one of the perpetrators turned herself in last month. She is currently serving her time.

Two months ago, I started a recruitment drive. There are a few potential candidates to note, like the young man who owns the sword above you," Kenelm motions to the sword on the wall above the door. "Any questions?"

At the mention of the Magnekineticist, the bandit-master shuddered, only barely managing to shake his head. "No... I did not follow that bastard into whatever hell-hole he wound up in. If I find him again, however... I will find some way to end him."

His fists had clenched, but he let Kenelm continue. He took a look around the office, more organized that he had last left it, and considering it had been in the Mag's care for some time before the guild reclaimed the halls, he could only imagine the mess the guild had before them.

Zachary relaxed slightly before nodding to the comments of the caravans. He mentioned interest in advertising the Guild's activities more actively in the trading sense, but that could be handled at a later date. What piqued his interests more was the mention of new recruits.

"Who has joined us? Anyone with some renown?"

"I have yet to receive notice of any new applicants with potential renown. I have only directed two such people toward me as the Ghost," Kenelm answered, "They have yet to find me. One is to locate me in this desert, near the ruins when she's ready for the answers she seeks. The other was instructed to find me when he is ready to learn how control his sword. It's essentially a waiting game at this point.

The recruitment drive itself has been disguised as free combat training to anyone looking to learn self defense and some survival tactics. I'm posing as the instructor. I'm sure you've seen at least one of the fliers around Uladh," Kenelm smiles after revealing the details on the recruitment drive.

Zachary nods. "That I have. An interesting tactic, to say the very least."

He taps one of his feet on the ground in a repetitive rhythm, as if keeping the beat of his pulse. "I have heard that there are some other bandits in town, as well. This needs to be addressed."

"The highwaymen in Uladh?" Kenelm inquires, "I've known of them for a while, now, and have tried dealing with them. I haven't been able to get far, since they prefer two to one combat."

Zach nods. "Understandable... however, I would like to see us dealing with them more actively, and openly."

He begins to pace towards one of the bookshelves, dragging a finger down the spines of the books before coming upon The True Value of Mental Rest. He pulled it from the bookshelf, and fingered through it, regarding Kenelm once more.

"I have talked to some of the newer inhabitants of Erinn," he said, offhandedly. "I've mentioned and asked about the Corenites, and they had little knowledge of the group. I mentioned the bandits, and they assumed the Corenites to be linked with the bandits that raid the caravans."

He pulled a small strip of paper from his backpack and placed it where he remembered last leaving off. "I'd like to see us separate ourselves from this image, by advertising the trading aspect of the Corenites. We are not just a force, but a guild. Therefore, we should allow membership based on the merchantile practices of each city, and offer protection to members and non-members alike in the form of our own membership."

"How does that sound?" He closes the book, dropping it to his side.

A thoughtful look appears on Kenelm's face, "Considering I've maintained the low profile you started the group with, public relations has been lacking, hasn't it?" His facial expression shifts some at a realized plausibility, "With a little retooling, I think the present recruitment drive can assist with that front. All in all, yes, I would agree that is something we should work on."

Zach nodded. "Then I shall begin drafting an announcement, one certainly less vague than our original recruitment drive back in the days of Fenrir Eir. And if it's alright with you, I'll make sure it's posted immediately."

"Now," the bandit-leader says, moving towards the desk and shuffling some of the papers around, glancing at them momentarily. "We should probably talk about the bandit's modus operandi, and revise the obligations, if need me."

(( We can take the rest of this OOC, if you'd like, as it's more the nitty gritty reform ))

"You have the green light to retool the recruitment drive, and once I've gotten some sleep, I'll help figure out the necessary logistics changes concerning the new public relations objectives," Kenelm states.

With that, Kenelm excuses himself from the office, and retires to his quarters after putting his helmet back on.

/* I'll take you up on that offer. I've pretty much run into a wall for the conversation, and this is as good a point as any to apply an intermission. */