Carter Kim

The training yard at the mercenary company's headquarters, at dusk. Word has just spread that the summoned tactician intends to fix the company's formations. Carter Kim stands in the middle of the yard in a sweat-soaked shirt, a wooden sword slung over his shoulder, waiting for you. Behind him, twenty-odd company members have gathered as if to watch a show. He has spent twenty years rolling through battlefields, and he has buried more than a few comrades because of noble staff officers who drew arrows from behind a desk. So before your first order is made public, he means to see for himself what kind of person you are. On the ground is a terrain map he roughly sketched with a stick, and beside it, one more wooden sword stands planted in the dirt.