The next few weeks saw Paul sitting on a bench, looking to his unit of barbarians and wondering what exactly it was they were missing. Through brawls, fist fights, and even a few death threats he managed to temper their warrior souls enough to obey his orders the first time he bellowed them, but the defiance in their actions was still prevalent. No matter how hard they tried there was still something that could not resonate within the group and so he began to spend his training time with them watching.

The line officer felt a measure of comfort however in knowing at least he made progress. He had learned the Elliot Hawk’s unit of House Knights had blatantly refused orders during a training exercise when the man had attempted to rally them right into a trap. Charging forward all by himself the officer was quickly surrounded by Jake Falcon’s guard. Viola, who happened to be watching the scene, merely shook her head as Jonothan Andrews attempted to give the upstart commander a little advice.

It was a month before the Anniversary Ball was to take to place, and Paul still found himself dumbfounded as to who he would ask out on a date. Rachel had offered her opinions on a few prospects, but most of the woman she pointed out had, in a rather shallow fashion, denied him for leading the berserkers. A little depressed to be quickly shot down, annoyed to be at a rut with his unit, and stressed that he was having trouble finding a date eventually caused his mind to begin over processing. He could not decide if he wanted to be angry, melancholy, or just agitated.

Leaning backwards and pushing with his feet so the entire bench collapsed with his weight he looked up through the hole in the roof at the skylight, sighing in frustration as he let out a deep breath. His berserker’s had stopped working to eye him, before a pair of boots began stalking to him with a steady, thunderous gait. There was a bark of orders, before the team returned to fixing up their home as Donovan closed his eyes.

“Sir,” The gruff voice of Veronica Helsmier said to him. “You are uh…pissing the others off,”

“So?” Paul replied with a shrug. “They were all late to assembly today by four minutes. So I’m taking my four minute break.”

“With all do respect, sir,” Veronica kicked the bench out from his knees, the wood scraping the floor as his feet hit the floorboards with a large thud and a crack of wood snapping. “You’ve been on break all day. I’m all for observation and delegation, but you’ve not done a thing to pitch in here.”

“Veronica, do you speak for yourself or the entire unit?” Paul asked. There was a pause before she glanced to the room and then back to him.

“I personally spoke for myself, but I think I harbor the intentions of the entire unit. Get off your ass and do something,” She ordered. Paul opened one eye and looked to her with a knowing grimace.

“See, that’s the problem,” Paul took a deep breath and sat up, dragging his legs in to a seating position. “You thought for yourself. Though your opinion undoubtedly matches everyone else’s, you still performed the act for yourself. Just like the way we all fight. We’ll stand shoulder to shoulder, but we fight our own personal battles. Nobody covering another, no one giving a damn if the person at their side could benefit from their aid.”

“I…” Veronica paused a moment, before she sat down in front of Paul and eyed him carefully. “I don’t get it. We’re berserkers. We live for the thrill of battle, the chance to shed blood. We are unlike other facets of the army, our skills do not compliment anything but when applied with the right pressure, we’ll perform just fine.”

“And that’s all good and dandy,” Paul replied back quickly. “But we can’t keep running right at the enemy forever. We need to be able to coordinate and function as a team. We need to be able to move swiftly like the house knights, but be as uncompromising as the guard!”

“Sir,” A rough voice spoke with a bit of edge to the tone. Paul turned his head to look at Frank Saigen, seeing his eyes casting a dark look as he held two long wooden pieces of lumbar on his shoulder. Paul nodded for him to speak his mind. “No offense to the Guard, or the House Knights, but we aren’t pretty little guardsman of David King nor indecisive ninnies of Jonothan Andrews.”

“Frank, I get your point, but remind yourself when speaking in the future you are ill speaking two of the best strategists in Emprea. Those pretty little guardsman in their pristine uniforms and perfect hair have no qualms getting bloody and dirty to make people like us bounce off them like a rubber ball against a wall. And those indecisive with their inability to make up their mind have no problem leading us by the nose to wherever they want.”

“Yet you expect us to act like them. It’s…” Frank looked angry as he tried to find the words to say, but Paul merely stood up and motioned for the man to drop his burden. With a thunk the wood fell as Paul whistled to gather up his unit. Paul looked to Frank and made a motion for him to speak again.

“You talk about the House Knights and the Guard like that is what we should be, but we are not them! We are Emprea’s berserkers! We do not have grace, nor do we have finesse! We are butcher’s through and through. In battle, there is none in all of Emprea who could deal as much damage as a single one of us can do!”

The room began to nod their agreement as Veronica looked to Paul with a guilty grimace, her own head softly nodding to the words of Frank. Paul merely kept his control as he pointed to each one of them slowly.

“I do not doubt I have the best brawlers in all of Emprea!” He spoke proudly. “But unless we are in a bar room with the enemy, well, let me perfectly honest with all of you,” Paul looked to each one before he sighed in agitation. “Guys, we stink out loud. If we bring the enemy to combat, we pretty much win, but if they use even a measure of tactics against us, we begin to show our weaknesses. In our skirmishes you guys beat the Line soldiers in a straight up battle, but when they flanked us, we were trashed. When they retreated and we pursued, they turned and let us bounce of their shields as the archers shot us to pieces. When they dug in to a hill top we couldn’t oust them! When we were ordered to hold a position we left it defenseless in five seconds to chase out fleeing soldiers.”

“That is the job of other warriors!” Someone shouted from the back. Paul growled lowly as he looked to his soldiers.

“You cannot expect the army to employ us in situations that we cannot be considered favored for. They do not assign the Guard to storm a fortress, and they do not ask the archers to drop their bows and lift up swords. We should not be assigned to do anything but break the enemy upon the edge of our steel.” There was a chorus of cheers as Frank spoke sourly, and Paul shook his head in irritation as he growled a little louder.

“I do not buy that excuse!” Paul roared making the room flinch. “We are soldiers of Emprea, and while we do battle in the most brutal extent, we have more than one use for our power! I refuse, no, I DENY that we are meant to do one thing only!” The room shrugged as Veronica looked to Paul and offered him a pat on the shoulder.

“Deny us all you want, but until you accept what we are, this unit will never go in the direction you want.” There was the loud sound in the distance of the bell tower chiming that the hour had turned to seven, and the warriors began to disperse quickly to their next assigned stations. Paul grunted his dismissal of the unit under his breath as he looked out the door and saw one tiny body, fearfully looking inside the room as bodies passed by her with irritation and anger as they barked to her on their way out.

Noel Spero chirped in surprise as she jumped away, and Paul sighed as he usually did when he saw Noel in action. He had forgot the Spero’s had invited the Line officer over for dinner, and he turned grabbing his bag as he watched the last of the room leave. When he was at the door he found the emerald green eyes of the little girl looking to him, and with a gruff greeting he walked forwards.

“Hey Noel,” Paul muttered.

“Um, Hi, Paul,” She replied. “You okay?” She asked innocently. Paul looked to the backs of his unit as they all left, silently debating on if killing them all would allow him another squad that was a bit more competent. He shook his head looking back to Noel and he shrugged.

“Berserkers will be berserkers. Single minded and stubborn. I’ll break them eventually,” Donovan yawned as he slowed his gait to allow the girl to catch up.

“More like a bunch of idiots if you ask me,” Noel sneered. “Barking like lunatics and running around being jackasses! Did you know one of them made a comment about my breasts! All in all it was just another day in my sorta crappy life. You?”

“Yep, not much different, except they didn’t make fun of my breasts.” Noel sighed with Paul as they both walked. “So what’s for dinner.”

“I had only twenty minutes to cook so I tossed some pasta in a boiler and diced up tomatoes to make a quick sauce. Though in all honesty I don’t think I have enough cilantro to make it pop the way I want to.”

Paul laughed as he figured, like always, Noel‘s food would be just fine. A barbarian came running back around the side wall, chasing after a line soldier who giggled wildly as she ran, her assests bouncing in a way that was like a cruel joke to the flat chested woman. Noel sheepishly remained quiet before she muttered under her breath. Paul leaned in closer to her as the girl looked to him stupidly. They were nearly nose to nose and her feet began to awkwardly shuffle.

“Uh…” She left her mouth gaping open in a stupor as she felt a wee bit intimidated to have Paul Donovan bearing down upon her.

“What did you say?” He asked, his tone low and full of curiosity and a slight menace. His eyes flashed to hers, a hungry thirst for knowledge that only Noel Spero had and she wished she could shrink away. He lowered his backpack to his side, looking to her as he lifted one hand to her shoulder shaking her gently. “What did you say?”

“I don‘t have enough Cilantro, I‘m sorry, I really am!” She squeaked out. “It’s not like I knew you liked it, which until this terrifying moment I didn’t, but now that I see you do I’m a little concerned. I mean how many people get this violent about Cilantro! I think you should get professional help and stop hurting me!”

“No, what you muttered just a second ago,” Paul insisted interrupting her long winded rant. Noel squirmed and he realized he was squishing her arm like a grape. He apologized quickly, but still looked to her waiting. Noel rubbed her sore arm as she gave him a nervous, if not slightly annoyed glance.

“I said stupid wolves…” She made her response sound like a question. Paul looked to her, and then up to the sky. Though the sun was still up, it was getting ready to set as it cast a dark glow of a tinting orange nature. Night was approaching and he felt a sudden idea rush over him.

“Noel Spero, no matter what anyone says, you are brilliant, beautiful, freaking genius!” Paul leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead, turning swiftly as he lifted his bag in one hand and bounded away in large leaps. Noel lifted a hand to her head in silent awe, before she furiously began to rub the spot.

“Ewww,” She moped. “Why couldn’t it have been David King…”