Jacob Roland never thought much about it. What it meant to be a Kazimierz competition knight of little renown. To be able to find a job in Columbia. Just how weird this job was. Ironforge City, Southern District, in a small meeting room inside the Maylander Security and Defense Company’s office building. He carefully wipes down his small shield and accompanying weapon. Quietly awaiting the arrival of his 'superior.' Jacob takes stock of the meeting room. Five unique 'professionals' sit around him. The Sargonian to his side is showing off his muscles. This brawny man, over two meters tall, boasts that he could smash through the walls with brute strength alone. The Bolívarian soldier talking to him is assembling a crossbow, the head of each bolt conspicuously marked with different colors. The Leithanian caster leaning against the wall fiddles with an Arts Unit, the device occasionally emitting electric noises. Closest to the window are two tight-lipped Victorian soldiers. One of them holds a sledgehammer with a head larger than his own. Each of them looks like they've been through a hundred battles, endured countless trials and tribulations. But what about himself? The toughest battle he ever endured... was just a match in a Kazimierz arena. Is he really qualified for this job? Why would a Columbian recruit a group of warriors from all across the world? Just as these thoughts run through his mind, someone pushes open the door. A tall, red-haired lady wearing sunglasses walks in. She has a small gun hanging from her waist, but she is not a Sankta. She walks up to the podium, clearly in no hurry. 'Welcome to my squad.' 'You can call me Ash.'