[Soldier]

The cries of a badly burned Fianna Warrior, his kilt and armor literally burned into his flesh, were loud as his comrades carried him past the caravan. The city was in absolute chaos, and would not get better in the near future. Colin was sitting at a table near the mess tent, eating the first full meal he was able to put in his stomach for several days when he was told there was a contingent from Imperia. With a sad sigh and glance at his uneaten food, Colin got to his feet and headed toward the front gate of the makeshift work camp. “I am Colin Fianna, of Clan Fianna,” he called to Iternus. “I am in charge here until we can find a replacement. The local military had a rather… Bad turn of events, as did our city government.” There was a rather wry laugh as the Barbarian held his hands out to his sides. “Amazing, yes? One of the biggest cities in the Empire belongs to a simple Barbarian now. But come, sit and eat. I was finishing lunch myself, and we can discuss how your aid will help us.” He pointed back to the table where his food was still sitting, gesturing to the group. “I’m sure you can do with a meal, yes? It’s simple fare, but as you can see, we haven’t the wealth to spare anymore.”