Andreas' Plan

"AND SHAVE THAT STUBBLE OFF YOUR FILTHY MAGGOT FACE!" roared Andreas, peppering the private's already wet face with more spittle. "Y-y-y-yes sir!" the hung over soldier replied. Not sure what to do, he saluted. It did not seem to soften the look on Andreas' face, which was the mixture of disgust and artfully controlled rage that only a heavy-handed drill sergeant could muster. "You have 12 hours to get your sorry hides in order and report back to me. DIS-MISSED!"

The twelve bedraggled, hung over and still somewhat inebriated soldiers King Malevus had given the adventurers to fight the Ruk-Shol with staggered and bustled out of the room, moving as fast as they could to escape their new commanding officer. Bitter complaints behind closed doors were likely to ensue, but it was clear that Andreas intended to brook no foolishness in his unit.

Azariah had at first become tense when Andreas had burst out at the soldiers, but when he saw what Andreas was doing, he relaxed. He had a feeling that the rabble would be organized in short order.

Shoving one of the chairs out from the table and taking a seat, Andreas looked up at Azariah, Nobo'ru and Abel. "I have a plan..."