The Mercenaries IC

[Huscarl]

Life had been slow and not very rewarding up until yesterday, when you by chance came into contact with a man called Loki One-Eye. You learned from your encounter with Loki that he had just recently been made a contractor of the company, and that he was on the lookout for recruits. One way or another, the conversation ended with you having been recruited into Lokis service and told to show up at his place at dusk today.

You've spent the afternoon asking for Lokis whereabouts, and have finally managed to track him down to a small two-storey row house in the docks. The sun has almost set, filling the streets with a warm, red light. The air is filled with many different scents, ranging from fish and salt to blood and excrements. You can hear someone moving around inside the house, but you can't see anyone even though the windows are open. One of you move forward to knock on the door, but just as that person extends the arm the door is opened by Loki. He looks at you all throuh his remaining eye, blinks once, and says: What're y'all standing about out there for, come on inside!

Well inside, you're invited to sit down at a small round table where you're each handed a cup containing what you suspect is alcohol. Loki sits down with you, grabs a mug for himself and speaks.

So, you finally came! 'Got a little worried I was gonna have to eat supper all by myself now that I've cooked such a motherload of food, but with you here now I guess my effort will've been well spent. Before we get to eating, though, we need to lay down the basics. First of all, you no longer sleep in the swordhall. I've prepared bunks for y'all upstairs. Second, you don't work in the stables anymore. You'll work when contracted and rest in the meantime. Third, I'll take care of the food and logistics while you're here but you'll have to buy and take care of your own gear. I'm no servant, I'm your boss. Now, the pay. The money. It gets divided as follows: the company takes two tenths of the money, I take one, and you get to divide the rest of it as you like. This is company standard and it's non-negotiable. Sounds good? Yes? Good. Now, I'll tell you about th mission as soon as we've eaten, but first let's drink to our fortune shall we? Raise your glasses, soon-to-be friends!

Loki raises his glass, looks you all in the eye, and says, before drinking:
Long live death, long live war, long live the cursed mercenary! A toast to our fellowship and to our succes!

He empties his mug and so do you. After a moment of silence, he moves to what seems to be the cooking quarters of his filthy house and produces a couple of plates with food which he then sets in front of you.

So, tell me, he says, who are you lot anyway? How'd you end up a mercenary?

[wezzyfish]

Bjornolf is silent as the group is greeted by Loki. He had heard stories of this mercenary, and looking at his mangled body, he could almost believe some of them. The insides of his house also seemed to fit what he had heard. Pretty simple furnishings, though many of them well-made, and not much in the way of decoration, unless you count that curved-headed spear, or the suit of armor in the corner.

The alcohol he was fed tasted ok, though it went down too smoothly for his taste. Bjornolf was used to something stronger. Smiling and letting out a loud "ahh" should cover his disappointment though. The last thing he needed was to get on the bad side of his new boss. He had spent most of his life on people's bad side and had no intention of doing so now.

As the food was brought in, Bjornolf dug in with the rest. Taking a leg of chicken, he ripped off half the meat and swallowed it with some more of that weak alcohol. Before it was completely down his throat, he shoved some potato and peas and went reaching for a chunk of bread. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten so well.

It took him a moment to realize that Loki had spoken, and the short Norjunni had to force swallow some food, nearly choking in the process before answering. "My name is Bjornolf, a blacksmith. I'm new to the company, only been here a few months working in the forge, and its time I really pay my dues and go out on assignment. I'm not a great warrior, but I vow to stand beside you all when the going gets tough and not allow my courage to waver." His stomach felt slightly sick saying it, though that could have been the cheese. That looked like mold growing on part of it. He quickly reached for his mug again and downed the last of the contents and let out a loud burp.

[Stock]

As a big man opened the door of the house Isaac wasn't suprised. He had done some odd jobs for Loki when he was still a teenager. The veteran was a unique man, one of a kind. He would always know exactely what Isaac was going to do, it was almost as if he had future sight. Isaac followed the rest of the group into the house and sat down at a table. The group, as Isaac had already seen, was quite diverse. The group came from quite a few walks of life. The older man, Isaac wasn't sure who was older Loki or that man with the big axe, stood out the most.

"So, tell me, who are you lot anyway? How'd you end up a mercenary?" the veteran sprouted after he brought in dinner. The group had walked most of the day, not knowing where to go, so most people were hungry. Everybody started to dig in and nobody really wanted to go first. The drink should have gotten most people over their damned nerves, shouldn't it? Isaac ate some stew and some chicken and looked around the table. Loki was sitting, waiting for someone to open up. Fine I'll go... Isaac thought and at that very moment the tough Norjunni began to speak.

Sitting on the simple yet strong-looking furniture he listened to what Norjunni was saying. Isaac thought he had seen him a couple of times at the forge. Bjornolf was quite the craftsman Isaac had heard. Isaac had tended the forge too, but he quited and became a merc. Refilling his cup Isaac stood up. Bjornolf had just finished telling his story and Isaac wanted to get introductions out of the way, it wasn't really his thing.

"My name is Isaac duFerre, that means something along the lines of: 'out of metal'. It's the name given to all basterds in Askar. I'm sure the blonde... gentleman..." Sticking his hand out to Eterius "at the end of the table knows that. I came to Granhaven because my dad marked me an outlaw and I was to be hanged. I've done a few contracts for Vrebrand before he had his, well, his bear accident. I also worked as a company smith for a while, I'm sure we met Bjornolf. That about wraps up my history." The basterd took another sip of his cup and sat down.

[Missy]

The mead was weak ....Diarmuid sighed ....How was this suppose to make me happy? He drink's it anyhow....Just to show some gratitude. As Isacc tells them his story Diarmuid pops in at the end of it.
''Cant say i got a better one....Call me Diarmuid...Left the kids and wife back-home to earn me self a living....The wood cutter deal didn’t work out to fine...''. He takes a hefty clunk of the ''Mead''
''You aint to good at makeing these drinks huh?''. Diarmuid did not realize
that the mead was int the problem...it was his tolerance level's

[The Veteran Geek]

She arrived outside of the door just after the rest of her companions. She had stayed behind in the stables to brush out the hair on the last horse. They were such kind and gentle beings, she thought it silly now that she had once been so afraid of them. Tanith pushed back the hood of her cloak and surveyed the group. All of them were men. A small wrinkle could not be kept from her nose. She now took in the house and wondered why exactly anyone would want to live on the ground. It made it possible for all manner of creatures to get in, not to mention the multitude of uninvited guests. The tree houses of her swampy home were much more practical.

The minutes were long as they milled about and Tanith could no longer take it. She approached the door to knock, just like men to make a woman grow the balls. Before her closed hand could rap on the wood, the door opened and she stared into the wizened face of Loki.

The first time she had met the man Tanith had disliked him profusely. He smelled strangely. But he had offered her a new life, a possibility for her future. It was a future she could get comfortable with. Since then, the few times she had seen him had caused her to like him more and more. The only hitch was that she would have to work beneath a man. It was an idea that was absolutely foreign to her and caused great discomfort.

Arriving in late spring, Tanith loathed the cooler atmosphere to which she found herself. Despite this, she had been amazed at the vast body of water on which Granhaven sat. She had never seen so much clear liquid in all of her existence. Loki had greeted her with a kind smile and a belly laugh. He reminded her of an elder man in her tribe, silly and serious all at once. Granhaven itself was what could only be considered a wealthy town with so many people mashed together. There was hardly room to breathe. Tanith disliked it. For a long time she disliked the town, the people, the amount of clothing she had to wear, and the vast openness of the sky. She loved Lake Gran though. It was a splendid wonder that never ceased to amaze her.

Tanith entered the abode first and thought it rather fine. She had yet to master the concept of chairs. She knew their primary use, but could not grasp the need. Was the floor not an acceptable sitting place? And tables were another silly thing that she simply could not understand. In the end Tanith chalked these things up to wealth. Only the wealthy owned things in excess. From the looks of the place Loki was rather wealthy.

She took a seat in one of the chairs and accepted her mug of liquor. She sipped at it, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Tanith rarely drank. It dulled one's senses and made it easier for others to attack. Instead, she focused on what Loki was saying. It saddened her only slightly to learn she would no longer spend as much time among the horses. Excitement rolled in her stomach as she felt the exhilaration of moving forward. The money meant very little to her. Tanith had a few of the coins the people used to trade and barter, but none of it made sense. A coin was worthless in comparison to trading an object of use for another object of use. A piece of copper meant less to Tanith than a new set of arrows. Gold was worth less in comparison to sturdy shoes. There was a lot of meaningless things these outerworlders relied heavily upon. Tanith lived simply for the thrill of battle and for the sake of her clansisters.

The raising of glasses? Did this have some ceremonial meaning? Like the rest of the group she lifted her mug into the air, looking at everyone else to be sure she had performed the action correctly. Tanith then sipped the nasty liquid, hoping no one would noticed that she simply could not stomach all of the foul drink.

Food was brought before the lot. Tanith dutifully pulled out a small totem which represented all of her ancestors... well, almost all of them. She began the process of carefully separating her food so that she may properly appease those who came before her. Satisfied that her ancestors had been given the proper amount, she clapped her hands together loudly and bowed to the tiny totem on the table. Only after this did he began to eat. Around her the men dug in with out any sense of decorum. It was absolutely disgusting. In this world she may be considered a savage (and did not understand the need for untensils) but at least she did not eat as a starving pig.

Picking at her food she listened to each short tale before it fell upon her to share her own. "I am Tshilaba Tanith. I come from the Territories of the Snakefolk. My history is my own. Should we become like clan, perhaps you shall understand my tale." She bowed her head slightly to show she had finished speaking. Her voice was soft and breathy, like a summer breeze flowing through tall grass. She pronounced her T's harshly, the vowels were elongated, and the S's were prolonged. Her sentence sounded something like, 'Eye ahm T'sssshelahbah T'ahneeth. Eye coome froom thee T'arreetooriesss oov thee Sssnaykfahlk. Moi heestoorie eessss moi oohn. Sssshood whe becoom loik clahn, pearhops you sssshahll oondaressstahnd moi tahl.'

Tanith returned to her food, waiting for the next person's story.

[Huscarl]

Well, that's all very interesting, Loki says and produces a rolled up paper from a chest beneath the staircase. I figured that, since you've all had dinner, we can move on to the mission.

He puts the paper on the table and continues to speak.

We've been hired to escort a small mercheant caravan to the town of Millstone in the kingdom of Askers. It's just a week or so to the south, should be a breeze. You just have to be a little careful when moving through the Granwald. It's not unheard of that outlaws goes there to hide. The pay's not fantastic, but good. This is a good first job, and I expect you'll be able to see it through without problems. You'll head to the office of the Granwalder Trade Federation tomorrow and ask for Jorunn. She's the coordinator. Give her this paper to prove you're from the company, then follow her instructions. Now, I'd advice you to get some sleep once you're done feasting. There's more food on the stove if you're hungry. Tomorrow'll be a long day. Now, any questions before I go to bed?

[wezzyfish]

Bjornolf wipes his beard clean of crumbs as he listens to Loki lay out the job. It sounded easy enough, which Bjornolf was grateful for. He didn't think he was ready to go into a serious battle or war anytime soon, and each day away from the forge was one where he felt a little less like himself. A week there and one back shouldn't be too bad. He just cleaned his beard well when Loki offered more food, and Bjornolf leaped up at the opportunity and went to spoon himself some more stew and fixings, already stuffing his face before setting back down at the table.

"Granwald huh?" he said through a mouthful of potato. "What do we know of that area?" Being from the northern mountains, Bjornolf had seen heard about little from the world outside, yet judging from the mannerisms of some of his companions, he assumed it was quite a strange place.

[Shalashaska]

Eterius had been silent throughout the entire encounter. Frankly, he disliked alcohol, but wasn't going to abstain in front of his new mates. So, he drank, he grew sick, and his vision grew slightly fuzzy. It wasn't that he was a stranger to alcohol- he had drank before- but recently, the stuff reminded him too much of home. Of different times. It was because of this slight issue that he didn't notice the slight slur aimed at him, nor did he hear very much other than the mission briefing. A week's journey to the south, eh? That shouldn't be all too bad. He realized that moving through the Granwald would be interesting- not only would they have to guard their lives, they'd have to watch out for the merchant's goods as well. Those plains were a den of sin, almost as horrid as Granhaven itself. The Sun High Above was pure, it was bright, it was holy. Granhaven was dark, dingy, and thriving with evil.

Eterius fought to keep his head from hitting the table as he mumbled something. It didn't quite come out how he had planned, so he cleared his throat and spoke again. "I traveled along the Granwald River on my way here. The trip was rather uneventful; however, I did notice several small camps along the riverbank. If at all possible, I think we should stick inland. Otherwise, I don't know much about it." Satisfied with his contribution, he returned to eating, and even took a swig of the drink.

[Stock]

Most people sitting at the table didn't know Granwald apparently. Isaac had passed through it with the caravan. They had encountered a band of bandits on the way, but the caravan was too large for the small group to attack. The caravan had only traveled through the forest for a short while, so Isaac had passed it of as him just having ill fortune. This was not the case...

While the young man was staying in Granhaven he kept his ears open at all times. Information was flying in from all sides and Isaac quickly learned how to separate valuable facts from rubbish rumors and he had heard quite some things about Granwald. Not everything was as pleasant, small bands of bandits had set up camp in Granwald for as long as Isaac could remember. That wasn't a real problem nowadays caravans would always team up. Larger caravans didn't have any problems with small groups of outlaws. Sometimes a cart or a sack went missing, most of it was food or valuables like gems and gold. Nobody really liked it, but the problems weren't that big and, hell, sometimes the crew would even grab a sack full of precious stones and sell it in a larger city. The real problems started when a small band of thieves were kicked out of the city.

"Well, I have a different view on that," Isaac started as he stood up from his chair, "As our sober companion points out there are a few camps on the banks of the river, yes. If our friend would have looked a bit better he could probably tell us that those camps were empty. Who heard the story about the 5 mayor thieves were kicked out of the city?" Isaac looked around the table, most people seemed aware of this. "Rumor has it that thy joined up with the largest group of bandits and are know cooperating. The thieves know the value of a structured approach to thieving, of course the same thing goes for raiding. This large bandit group is doing quite well and is attracting more outlaws from all over the forest because of their succes. This group is better organised, has better tactics and is better equipped. Combine all of this and you've got a more dangerous group of a-holes. That could pose a problem."

Isaac sat down again and was quite pleased with himself. He hoped the group now knew what they could face and that this would increase their chances of survival. He also really wanted Loki's view in the matter as he had been in their shoes years ago and was more knowledgeable than the whole group combined. "So has anybody else got any views on the matter? Or do you, Loki, have something to add? I can't speak for the rest of the group, but I don't know the forest that well. Could you maybe supply us with a map, Loki?

[Shalashaska]

"A bloody bandit army." Eterius began to mumble to himself as he wrung his hands. He could handle a group of bandits, he could handle a large, disorganized army of bandits, but an organized, large, dangerous group of bandits? That would be difficult. As an Asker noble, learning the lay of the land had been important- before beginning his training as a warrior, he had spent his life learning. It was this knowledge that had helped him on his flight over, and this knowledge that could be helpful if no map was available. Everything he knew, however, was theoretical; he hadn't actually been to most of the places he knew of. He simply knew where they were.