Ser Coffman had eventually found himself in the barracks, meeting with the soldiers who either laid down their arms in surrender to their forces, were fortunate enough not to die in battle, or were fortunate enough not to have been a part of the fight. So many unfamiliar faces... Lord Neville would have surely had the day if he had been sane enough to keep his best men in arms... How many cunning generals and brave soldiers had been exiled out of such ridiculous jealousy?<br/><br/>A man came to him then, with summons to the audience hall... From Jason, the Swift. Who was that upstart to command him? Nevertheless, he found himself before Jason, though he held his chin high when he spoke. "You've asked for me?"