Red Streak Mercenaries were an unsavoury group of ruthless individuals who had banded together to form a company.
Although they did take work, their reputation was well known. Criminals packaged up in neat uniforms…
Everyone in the room was avoiding eye contact, subconsciously doing everything to avoid even the mildest interaction with them.
'But what are they doing here?'
The Red Streak Mercenaries were more active in the east, around the free cities, small towns that surrounded the Donia Kingdom.
Eliron then noticed something he had not seen earlier. The spot on their uniform where their emblem was meant to have been had been ripped off.
'Deserters…'
These mercenaries had run from battle. What was happening in Donia that would make even warriors as fierce as the Red Streak Mercenaries flee?
Eliron felt a negative premonition.
'Has it already begun?' he mused, just before he sighed and slowly shook his head.
'There is no need to think about it, at least for now…'
