Whitewater Gorge he told me to sing

”Alone,” he says.
Aulus silently pondered to himself, even as the other man spat obscenities, ones that veiled questions that were quite understandable. Ones that needed to be pondered.
And after a moment’s thought, he spoke; I was a soldier once. I belonged to an army, but that army is no more. Now I wander alone. Nothing more than a sellsword.
His words came to a pause. He cast a long, thoughtful gaze across the gorge. Then his eyes returned to the man.
I am no sellsword. I am no nomad. I am a soldier. That is who I’ve always meant to be.
This year alone had taught him that. The realization came so suddenly then, and with it came a sense of desperation. It gave him a voice he otherwise did not have. It gave him the will to keep talking to this man he’d otherwise walk away from and deem a fool.
If you are to throw yourself at a kingdom’s gates, you ought to have an army at your back. Wolves like myself. Allow me to pledge my skills to you. I am Aulus Corvinus. He bowed his head.