Urden backstepped from an oncoming attack, the blade whizzing close by his chest as he ducked into the opening the swing with, bringing his knee up briskly into the offender's groin, dropping him to his knees for a second blow to send the offending cultist backwards onto their back. An overhead swing would cleanly dispatch the enemy, standing up in time to see the ambush team roll in and begin properly slaughtering the cultists. Music to his ears, as was the sounds of ribs breaking after one hell of a tail whip, but that was a compliment to pay later. Oh no, for now he was working through the enemies one at a time, aiming to disorientate before killing. Each swing aimed to either create an opening or put down an enemy, working through any cult fool within hacking range. Still, he kept his back to allies, no sense getting surrounded without a good reason.
Eisenhorn
Member
Inquisitor of some Note
- Last Seen: 11 hrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 2780 (0.71 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- Eisenhorn 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Ariamis,
thedarkness,
Noctis,
Izurich,
Feyblue,
Asura,
Fetzen,
Lucid Dreaming,
Fish of Oblivion,
Rune_Alchemist
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
"You'd think, important as they are, they'd be made better..."
Urden took an aimed swing at the base of one such effigy, hacking it down with well placed strikes, and smashing them to pieces with a mix of stomps and axe blows. He was pacing himself as he worked, not wanting to exhaust himself before the fighting even started, and a whistle raised the sixth sense in the back of his head. That was too well timed to be anything but the sound of an alert. Maybe if it hadn't been in immediate response to the desecration of the effigies it would have been more believable as a birdsong or whatever nature people might call it. Still, by the time he was done with the next effigy, the necromancer's lackies finally decided to reveal themselves, going to surround them. Normally that might be a problem, but in this case that just made it harder for them to react to the impending ambush. Hefting his axe, and eyeing the nearest of the skull masked warriors. Scare tactics, useful against anyone who wasn't professional enough to keep moral, armor looked like a mix of leather and metal depending, not enough metal to warrant opening with the spike of his axe.
"Right, time to earn my coin, come have a go if you think you have a chance. Each of your heads is worth the same to me."
Urden made his move on the nearest of the masked goons, meeting the opening strike with a sideways swipe, using the axehead to bat the sword thrust away, snapping the other end upwards to crack the masked warrior alongside the head, to stun and create an extra opening. A second fast strike with the axe blade rended leather armor and dug deep into the side of the enemy. Ripping the axe clear, he roared as he brought the axe around and down, splitting the head of the masked warrior, and the mask too, sending the now corpse crashing to the ground. One down, plenty to go, and the mercenary would turn to meet the next threat, ready to adapt to the situation at hand. Otherwise, right now it was a good old fashioned brawl, the kind that ended with a lot of bloody, messy kills. Even better, the more attention he gathered, the more off guard the goons would be when the time came to be ambushed.
Urden took an aimed swing at the base of one such effigy, hacking it down with well placed strikes, and smashing them to pieces with a mix of stomps and axe blows. He was pacing himself as he worked, not wanting to exhaust himself before the fighting even started, and a whistle raised the sixth sense in the back of his head. That was too well timed to be anything but the sound of an alert. Maybe if it hadn't been in immediate response to the desecration of the effigies it would have been more believable as a birdsong or whatever nature people might call it. Still, by the time he was done with the next effigy, the necromancer's lackies finally decided to reveal themselves, going to surround them. Normally that might be a problem, but in this case that just made it harder for them to react to the impending ambush. Hefting his axe, and eyeing the nearest of the skull masked warriors. Scare tactics, useful against anyone who wasn't professional enough to keep moral, armor looked like a mix of leather and metal depending, not enough metal to warrant opening with the spike of his axe.
"Right, time to earn my coin, come have a go if you think you have a chance. Each of your heads is worth the same to me."
Urden made his move on the nearest of the masked goons, meeting the opening strike with a sideways swipe, using the axehead to bat the sword thrust away, snapping the other end upwards to crack the masked warrior alongside the head, to stun and create an extra opening. A second fast strike with the axe blade rended leather armor and dug deep into the side of the enemy. Ripping the axe clear, he roared as he brought the axe around and down, splitting the head of the masked warrior, and the mask too, sending the now corpse crashing to the ground. One down, plenty to go, and the mercenary would turn to meet the next threat, ready to adapt to the situation at hand. Otherwise, right now it was a good old fashioned brawl, the kind that ended with a lot of bloody, messy kills. Even better, the more attention he gathered, the more off guard the goons would be when the time came to be ambushed.
"Annoying the rich and privileged is an amusing past time if your bored, plus you can learn a lot from someone who's annoyed."
Urden found some amusement in the rebuttal and pouting remarks, though frankly, if someone got so foul tempered over a mistaken name, well, was it really that much of a consideration to even afford them? Still, the lamia's general depressive state over getting a name wrong spoke plenty of volume in and of itself about her temperament, at the very least spoke volumes about concern over not alienating herself from others, enough so that such a minor misstep could leave her in a poor mood indeed. But hell, who was he to judge, up until this job he had considered himself lucky to get any sort of recognition beyond merc or sellsword. Or, sellaxe in his case? Nah, didn't have the same ring to it, not really. He felt some pull to offer genuine advice instead of just poking fun and mockery alone, so after she also made the decision to go where she was ordered instead of simply picking for herself, he did offer one bit of earnest food for thought.
"Chin up though, anyone worth the time won't get so blindly irate over getting a name wrong. If they do, well, not exactly the kind of company worth keeping with skin that thin."
The worst part of a job like this was the waiting. Urden shared the sentiment with many soldiers, he knew that much, but whatever gods felt like listening was it tedious. Fighting was usually quick and brutal, celebrations too short and often too dry for his tastes, but all the waiting could drive someone mad. Wait for everyone to be in position, wait for the signal, wait for the enemy to strike, wait wait wait. Hurry up and bloody wait. He was with the group baiting the necromancer and goons into an ill advised, fanatical attack on the would be 'do gooders' trying to put down a vile practice without proper manpower and a blatant lack of self preservation. He was the hired muscle there to show a lack of coordination, near as he understood the plan. Granted, plans meant a whole lot when they didn't go off right, but he still got to put some, frankly, hideously designed effigies down hard enough to return to their base components. That was a win in his book if nothing else. Even better, an axe worked wonders for demolition in this case, and he shouldered it, taking comfort and confidence in its familiar weight and balance.
"Right, give the word and let's start smashing these ugly things to pieces."
@AzureKnight@VitaVitaAR
Urden found some amusement in the rebuttal and pouting remarks, though frankly, if someone got so foul tempered over a mistaken name, well, was it really that much of a consideration to even afford them? Still, the lamia's general depressive state over getting a name wrong spoke plenty of volume in and of itself about her temperament, at the very least spoke volumes about concern over not alienating herself from others, enough so that such a minor misstep could leave her in a poor mood indeed. But hell, who was he to judge, up until this job he had considered himself lucky to get any sort of recognition beyond merc or sellsword. Or, sellaxe in his case? Nah, didn't have the same ring to it, not really. He felt some pull to offer genuine advice instead of just poking fun and mockery alone, so after she also made the decision to go where she was ordered instead of simply picking for herself, he did offer one bit of earnest food for thought.
"Chin up though, anyone worth the time won't get so blindly irate over getting a name wrong. If they do, well, not exactly the kind of company worth keeping with skin that thin."
The worst part of a job like this was the waiting. Urden shared the sentiment with many soldiers, he knew that much, but whatever gods felt like listening was it tedious. Fighting was usually quick and brutal, celebrations too short and often too dry for his tastes, but all the waiting could drive someone mad. Wait for everyone to be in position, wait for the signal, wait for the enemy to strike, wait wait wait. Hurry up and bloody wait. He was with the group baiting the necromancer and goons into an ill advised, fanatical attack on the would be 'do gooders' trying to put down a vile practice without proper manpower and a blatant lack of self preservation. He was the hired muscle there to show a lack of coordination, near as he understood the plan. Granted, plans meant a whole lot when they didn't go off right, but he still got to put some, frankly, hideously designed effigies down hard enough to return to their base components. That was a win in his book if nothing else. Even better, an axe worked wonders for demolition in this case, and he shouldered it, taking comfort and confidence in its familiar weight and balance.
"Right, give the word and let's start smashing these ugly things to pieces."
@AzureKnight@VitaVitaAR
"And here I thought this evening was going to be boring..."
Urden wasn't much of one to comment on tactics and grand strategy, mostly since he wasn't paid to in this case, but the disagreements and discussion seemed to have led to a new plan. New plan was simple enough. One group, smash the idols and bait the corpse defilers into coming out to play a game of catch the vandal. Then the other group would come down on them like the wrath of the gods, if one put sufficient gravitas into such things. Figure they cared so much, they could have intervened already, but he wasn't about to spark a religious debate before heading off to battle. No, seemed like the Lions were being given a chance to pick their roles with final discretion to the Boss herself. Not a bad way to pick out companion's dispositions in regards to conflict, which gave him plenty to consider since others had chimed in so far before him.
Merchant was haggling with Ms. Daggers over poisons and such. Not much use for those in his line of work, if an axe to the torso didn't kill, you kept on trying. Still, can't fault the planning ahead. A mortal stab wound is already hard enough to focus past, add in something nasty chewing through you and its even worse. He hadn't done much shopping as of yet, he didn't need supplies and was frugal with his coin, not frittering it away on niceties and luxuries beyond boozing in taverns and alehouses. Every man had his vice, though on the war path he was cautious to drink, never knew when trouble would come knocking. Or tearing through a tent flap, screaming bloody murder. Since the Merchant was intent on coming along, well, that made the bait team that much more appetizing, and that was before the smashing of ritual idols was factored in. Whoever was on the bait and raid team would have a real good time, he might just wager.
'Hector', as the Lamia had so keenly gotten wrong, was next to chime in. Volunteered for ambush duty, figured. Cavalry types were all the same, regardless of the mount. Had the coin for arms, armor, and supplies to maintain that much of a standing, they always went for the glorious charge, the route and shattering of groups. Paid better too, but he couldn't ride a donkey to save his life, let alone the bloody big bird. No leave the whole 'noble art' of riding to those who could afford to armor both themselves and their steeds, replacing those had to get expensive quickly. Still, having bird man and his pet pigeon in the wings, pun intended, wasn't going to be unwelcome. Especially if something unexpectedly nasty decides to come barreling down on them. Still, he leaned over to the Lamia who had gotten Roger's name wrong, metaphorically ribbing her over the misstep.
"Y'know, since you mentioned it, Roger really does look like a 'Hector', doesn't he? Maybe you should go suggest it as a permanent change? Might just make his week."
The Boy Wonder tasked Istvan with gathering who he wanted for a raiding party, and then deferred to staying in his usual 'ward'. Typical, sending out the competent ones to do the heavy lifting, and then sitting back. Well, not quite sitting back, no one had that luxury, but tasking others before they had a chance to chime in, just rude really. At least pay the poor sod before barking orders. As for Sharp Ears, well, what a surprise the wood elf chose the ambush party. Terse and to the point though, credit where credit was due there. That he could work with, and long as he didn't offend ol' Sharpy there too much he'd be fine. Might want to see how he shoots first though, but they'd have plenty of time for that in the coming battle. He spoke up finally, as casual and relaxed as ever.
"Put me where you want me Boss, I ain't got a preference. No sense mucking up that grand strategy you got brewing in that head of yours, eh?"
@AzureKnight @VitaVitaAR
Urden wasn't much of one to comment on tactics and grand strategy, mostly since he wasn't paid to in this case, but the disagreements and discussion seemed to have led to a new plan. New plan was simple enough. One group, smash the idols and bait the corpse defilers into coming out to play a game of catch the vandal. Then the other group would come down on them like the wrath of the gods, if one put sufficient gravitas into such things. Figure they cared so much, they could have intervened already, but he wasn't about to spark a religious debate before heading off to battle. No, seemed like the Lions were being given a chance to pick their roles with final discretion to the Boss herself. Not a bad way to pick out companion's dispositions in regards to conflict, which gave him plenty to consider since others had chimed in so far before him.
Merchant was haggling with Ms. Daggers over poisons and such. Not much use for those in his line of work, if an axe to the torso didn't kill, you kept on trying. Still, can't fault the planning ahead. A mortal stab wound is already hard enough to focus past, add in something nasty chewing through you and its even worse. He hadn't done much shopping as of yet, he didn't need supplies and was frugal with his coin, not frittering it away on niceties and luxuries beyond boozing in taverns and alehouses. Every man had his vice, though on the war path he was cautious to drink, never knew when trouble would come knocking. Or tearing through a tent flap, screaming bloody murder. Since the Merchant was intent on coming along, well, that made the bait team that much more appetizing, and that was before the smashing of ritual idols was factored in. Whoever was on the bait and raid team would have a real good time, he might just wager.
'Hector', as the Lamia had so keenly gotten wrong, was next to chime in. Volunteered for ambush duty, figured. Cavalry types were all the same, regardless of the mount. Had the coin for arms, armor, and supplies to maintain that much of a standing, they always went for the glorious charge, the route and shattering of groups. Paid better too, but he couldn't ride a donkey to save his life, let alone the bloody big bird. No leave the whole 'noble art' of riding to those who could afford to armor both themselves and their steeds, replacing those had to get expensive quickly. Still, having bird man and his pet pigeon in the wings, pun intended, wasn't going to be unwelcome. Especially if something unexpectedly nasty decides to come barreling down on them. Still, he leaned over to the Lamia who had gotten Roger's name wrong, metaphorically ribbing her over the misstep.
"Y'know, since you mentioned it, Roger really does look like a 'Hector', doesn't he? Maybe you should go suggest it as a permanent change? Might just make his week."
The Boy Wonder tasked Istvan with gathering who he wanted for a raiding party, and then deferred to staying in his usual 'ward'. Typical, sending out the competent ones to do the heavy lifting, and then sitting back. Well, not quite sitting back, no one had that luxury, but tasking others before they had a chance to chime in, just rude really. At least pay the poor sod before barking orders. As for Sharp Ears, well, what a surprise the wood elf chose the ambush party. Terse and to the point though, credit where credit was due there. That he could work with, and long as he didn't offend ol' Sharpy there too much he'd be fine. Might want to see how he shoots first though, but they'd have plenty of time for that in the coming battle. He spoke up finally, as casual and relaxed as ever.
"Put me where you want me Boss, I ain't got a preference. No sense mucking up that grand strategy you got brewing in that head of yours, eh?"
@AzureKnight @VitaVitaAR
"So they aren't using the corpses in raids. If I was a betting man, I'd wager they are throwing bodies at whatever they are looking for. Dead don't get tired, far as I assume."
Urden was considering the brief so far, and the plan was quite the simple one, which left little to go wrong. Bait an ambush from the necromancer's minions, slaughter enough of them to route, and pursue them into whatever camp and holes they hid in. From there? Butcher them all, ideally with the necromancer long dead to an assassin's blade. Sounded like a good night's work to him, regardless of the damn fool nature of bringing a merchant along. It would end up selling the illusion of not being a trap, after all, who would bring a merchant along for an intended assault? Still, back with the archers was safe, plenty of time to run if things went truly sideways. Well, least as far as those short legs could manage. Reasonable enough plan, hell, if it all went smoothly he'd get his pay today without having to hack apart the too many corpses, into enough pieces they stopped fighting back. He knew he would be in the frontline crush of the fight, which suited him just fine. No hazard pay would be present, not with work like this, but it was the best place to find it all the same.
"So, any chance we'll have a rough idea where their attack will come from Boss? I figure we'll want the vanguard folks like me ready and waiting to meet the raid with extreme violence."
Odds were they would have a fair spread of the best of the best throughout the lead elements, to hold the line against the raid as it came in on the bait convoy, but Urden had a feeling there would be need for his special brand of axe work. Holding long enough for the ambush to play out proper was what would be needed. The mercenary had gotten back on his feet to look over the map and plan, speaking to the princess in a fairly cavalier manner compared to some, though he always addressed his employers as Boss, it was just the nature of things. At the moment he hadn't much else to say to the others present so far, fortunately the merchant wasn't going to need an escort. That would have been an easy job though, stand back and hack down anything lucky enough to get close to the archers and merchant. Wouldn't have gotten him anywhere quick though, all the more reason to stay at the front where he worked best. Still, that all depended on what the Princess had to say.
Urden was considering the brief so far, and the plan was quite the simple one, which left little to go wrong. Bait an ambush from the necromancer's minions, slaughter enough of them to route, and pursue them into whatever camp and holes they hid in. From there? Butcher them all, ideally with the necromancer long dead to an assassin's blade. Sounded like a good night's work to him, regardless of the damn fool nature of bringing a merchant along. It would end up selling the illusion of not being a trap, after all, who would bring a merchant along for an intended assault? Still, back with the archers was safe, plenty of time to run if things went truly sideways. Well, least as far as those short legs could manage. Reasonable enough plan, hell, if it all went smoothly he'd get his pay today without having to hack apart the too many corpses, into enough pieces they stopped fighting back. He knew he would be in the frontline crush of the fight, which suited him just fine. No hazard pay would be present, not with work like this, but it was the best place to find it all the same.
"So, any chance we'll have a rough idea where their attack will come from Boss? I figure we'll want the vanguard folks like me ready and waiting to meet the raid with extreme violence."
Odds were they would have a fair spread of the best of the best throughout the lead elements, to hold the line against the raid as it came in on the bait convoy, but Urden had a feeling there would be need for his special brand of axe work. Holding long enough for the ambush to play out proper was what would be needed. The mercenary had gotten back on his feet to look over the map and plan, speaking to the princess in a fairly cavalier manner compared to some, though he always addressed his employers as Boss, it was just the nature of things. At the moment he hadn't much else to say to the others present so far, fortunately the merchant wasn't going to need an escort. That would have been an easy job though, stand back and hack down anything lucky enough to get close to the archers and merchant. Wouldn't have gotten him anywhere quick though, all the more reason to stay at the front where he worked best. Still, that all depended on what the Princess had to say.
"Good thing spreading nasty rumors like that is bad for business then, ain't it Ms. Lambert?"
Urden had no intention of spreading gossip or rumors, they didn't pay well first off, not the kind he could source at least. Secondly he liked his ribs and kidney where it was without being perforated, and if he was lucky it'd only happen in his sleep. Of course, the Lad himself chimed in that, no, she was lovely company and not all daggers and glaring them. All a bit above his paygrade, really, he wasn't an infiltrator or assassin. He earned his coin the hard way, one axe swing at a time. Granted that frame of time might be incredibly short depending on his efforts, but that was neither here nor there. Before he could chime in the meeting for select soldiers was finally called and he was among them for the briefing. Time to see what the scouts had come reporting back on, and what Boss had in mind for them to go and clean up tonight.
Corpse defilers seemed to be the order of the day, which meant tangling with reanimated carcasses. Urden wouldn't lie and say that he was looking forward to this. Bandits, thugs, and the like could be intimidated into surrendering or otherwise routed. Reanimated bodies though, that was grim work near as he understood it. Not like it was his specialty either, but hell, he wasn't paid to have misgivings or concerns. One of the bluebloods or magic folks would probably get into some drawn out duel with the head of this band of corpse stealers, while folks like him were cleaning up the real mess. He got paid the same either way, and since this wasn't going to be particularly glamorous or career building he could settle for just hacking through anything unfortunate enough to be shambling in front of him. That being said, he didn't exactly have much of value to chime in with, so he found himself a place to sit down and rest a bit before the impending violence, mostly talking to himself.
"Seems like this'll be my good deed for the week, putting the defiled back in the ground where they belong."
Urden had no intention of spreading gossip or rumors, they didn't pay well first off, not the kind he could source at least. Secondly he liked his ribs and kidney where it was without being perforated, and if he was lucky it'd only happen in his sleep. Of course, the Lad himself chimed in that, no, she was lovely company and not all daggers and glaring them. All a bit above his paygrade, really, he wasn't an infiltrator or assassin. He earned his coin the hard way, one axe swing at a time. Granted that frame of time might be incredibly short depending on his efforts, but that was neither here nor there. Before he could chime in the meeting for select soldiers was finally called and he was among them for the briefing. Time to see what the scouts had come reporting back on, and what Boss had in mind for them to go and clean up tonight.
Corpse defilers seemed to be the order of the day, which meant tangling with reanimated carcasses. Urden wouldn't lie and say that he was looking forward to this. Bandits, thugs, and the like could be intimidated into surrendering or otherwise routed. Reanimated bodies though, that was grim work near as he understood it. Not like it was his specialty either, but hell, he wasn't paid to have misgivings or concerns. One of the bluebloods or magic folks would probably get into some drawn out duel with the head of this band of corpse stealers, while folks like him were cleaning up the real mess. He got paid the same either way, and since this wasn't going to be particularly glamorous or career building he could settle for just hacking through anything unfortunate enough to be shambling in front of him. That being said, he didn't exactly have much of value to chime in with, so he found himself a place to sit down and rest a bit before the impending violence, mostly talking to himself.
"Seems like this'll be my good deed for the week, putting the defiled back in the ground where they belong."
@HereComesTheSnow@The Otter@Psyker Landshark
"Someone raised you right then, certainly tried to anyways."
Urden was not one to waste time once on the path, however, and within a decently short span it seems that the subject of their search, the Lad himself, was calling out to Istvan. The comment in regards to having made a new friend got a snort out of the mercenary. Sure, happening upon the task of tracking this gloomy individual down certainly was quite the bonding experience, and he snuck in an off hand remark as he sidestepped to let Shilage take over being the one leading. Suited him anyways, most nobles weren't too keen on rubbing shoulders with those who traded their services in spilling blood for Librans, not that such a thought would keep his mouth in check.
"I blame the charming disposition and ability to hold a tune, who could turn away such a picture of friendliness and social graces?"
Normally, the nod would signal Urden's part to have been done with, and he'd have been on his way if it wasn't for the mention of a title most peculiar. Crownsblade, something he'd heard whispered in seedy dives and taverns frequented by those who just might have something to have feared from someone who bore such a title. He wasn't one to stake anything on rumors and hearsay alone, but if even a fraction of the fearful whispers were true, his life had just gotten a bit more interesting. His gaze shifted from the two men to the woman, the faint smile from his jesting resting on his face like a mask. He wasn't sizing her up, no point there if she really was a Crownsblade, given the rumors, rather contemplating if the dots connected, and what that meant for him. Nothing good, being aware of an assassin was bad for business, and he didn't fancy having to sleep with one eye even wider open than usual. That meant not simply scurrying off to go back to singing and waiting for an evening of violence, and testing the waters to see how this played out.
"And here I thought my good deed would go unrewarded. Urden Antiac, a pleasure to make your acquaintances."
"Someone raised you right then, certainly tried to anyways."
Urden was not one to waste time once on the path, however, and within a decently short span it seems that the subject of their search, the Lad himself, was calling out to Istvan. The comment in regards to having made a new friend got a snort out of the mercenary. Sure, happening upon the task of tracking this gloomy individual down certainly was quite the bonding experience, and he snuck in an off hand remark as he sidestepped to let Shilage take over being the one leading. Suited him anyways, most nobles weren't too keen on rubbing shoulders with those who traded their services in spilling blood for Librans, not that such a thought would keep his mouth in check.
"I blame the charming disposition and ability to hold a tune, who could turn away such a picture of friendliness and social graces?"
Normally, the nod would signal Urden's part to have been done with, and he'd have been on his way if it wasn't for the mention of a title most peculiar. Crownsblade, something he'd heard whispered in seedy dives and taverns frequented by those who just might have something to have feared from someone who bore such a title. He wasn't one to stake anything on rumors and hearsay alone, but if even a fraction of the fearful whispers were true, his life had just gotten a bit more interesting. His gaze shifted from the two men to the woman, the faint smile from his jesting resting on his face like a mask. He wasn't sizing her up, no point there if she really was a Crownsblade, given the rumors, rather contemplating if the dots connected, and what that meant for him. Nothing good, being aware of an assassin was bad for business, and he didn't fancy having to sleep with one eye even wider open than usual. That meant not simply scurrying off to go back to singing and waiting for an evening of violence, and testing the waters to see how this played out.
"And here I thought my good deed would go unrewarded. Urden Antiac, a pleasure to make your acquaintances."
@HereComesTheSnow
Urden raised a hand in return greeting to the gambeson clad István. Now there was a man that the mercenary could respect, he'd heard stories of the Shilage family well before ever having crossed paths with the lineage themselves. Soldiers who rose up to nobility, and had been making moves to establish themselves. All that wouldn't have meant a lick if it had turned out the man had proven to not be an effective fighter. Fortunately, any concerns had been wasted considerations, István was skilled with both shield and flail. Notoriously tricky choice of weapon, and proved to be the kind of implacable pillar in a battle crush that could stand out in the finest shock company, and could charge such a fee as well if it had suited. Of course, not everyone had the mercenary outlook, not something Urden particularly blamed anyone for of course. End of the day, if all he looked for in life was a good fight alone, he could do far worse than seeing where the scion of Shilage went. Still, a question posed deserved an answer, and he gave his weapon a once over before setting the whetstone back in its place.
"The good Earl, I do think I saw him a bit ago, as well as one of his servants looking rather busy with a message no doubt paramount to deliver. Looked like he was heading for the Boss' tent, least that was the direction he was wandering while giving the troops a good once over. Tell you what though, I won't get much else done preparing so I'll help track the lad down."
Urden hopped to his feet, already practically dressed for the no doubt battle filled evening. Compared to some in the camp, the mercenary fought and travelled light, a single shoulder guard providing protection for his non dominant side. The heavier armor got, the slower he moved and, more importantly, the more expensive upkeep got. Full plate was all fine and well for nobility and knights who had a nation footing the bill for them, but it took an exceedingly successful mercenary to be able to afford the upkeep and time spent conditioning and training for how to move and fight in armor. Wearing it was just one aspect, one had to be comfortable in armor, know where it could take hits and where it couldn't. Tightening the strap on his one piece of armor, and shouldering his axe, he casually addressed the low bass that had complimented his own tune nicely.
"Been quite sometime since someone knew that old work ditty, call it a pleasant surprise. Anyways, shall we?"
Urden's mind wandered briefly while getting underway to make the search happen. He suspected a night raid on whoever was up to no good this time, it was a clever idea with soldiers who could pull it off. Night raids were tricky affairs though, it was too easy to mix up friend and foe in the gloom, even if the night sky was kind enough to not obscure what light it provided. However, that was a matter for the briefing to come as he focused his attention once more. At the leisure of the Shilage, Urden would take the lead strolling the last known path he had seen the moody lad wandering off on. It reminded him of just how....varied a band this group had become. From merchants and mercenaries to lords and noble heirs, you could find near anyone in this merry group. Urden chatted with soldiers and camp staff in passing, playing that seeming pleasant demeanor to glean where the Earl had gone. A bit of luck they'd find him in no time at this rate.
Urden raised a hand in return greeting to the gambeson clad István. Now there was a man that the mercenary could respect, he'd heard stories of the Shilage family well before ever having crossed paths with the lineage themselves. Soldiers who rose up to nobility, and had been making moves to establish themselves. All that wouldn't have meant a lick if it had turned out the man had proven to not be an effective fighter. Fortunately, any concerns had been wasted considerations, István was skilled with both shield and flail. Notoriously tricky choice of weapon, and proved to be the kind of implacable pillar in a battle crush that could stand out in the finest shock company, and could charge such a fee as well if it had suited. Of course, not everyone had the mercenary outlook, not something Urden particularly blamed anyone for of course. End of the day, if all he looked for in life was a good fight alone, he could do far worse than seeing where the scion of Shilage went. Still, a question posed deserved an answer, and he gave his weapon a once over before setting the whetstone back in its place.
"The good Earl, I do think I saw him a bit ago, as well as one of his servants looking rather busy with a message no doubt paramount to deliver. Looked like he was heading for the Boss' tent, least that was the direction he was wandering while giving the troops a good once over. Tell you what though, I won't get much else done preparing so I'll help track the lad down."
Urden hopped to his feet, already practically dressed for the no doubt battle filled evening. Compared to some in the camp, the mercenary fought and travelled light, a single shoulder guard providing protection for his non dominant side. The heavier armor got, the slower he moved and, more importantly, the more expensive upkeep got. Full plate was all fine and well for nobility and knights who had a nation footing the bill for them, but it took an exceedingly successful mercenary to be able to afford the upkeep and time spent conditioning and training for how to move and fight in armor. Wearing it was just one aspect, one had to be comfortable in armor, know where it could take hits and where it couldn't. Tightening the strap on his one piece of armor, and shouldering his axe, he casually addressed the low bass that had complimented his own tune nicely.
"Been quite sometime since someone knew that old work ditty, call it a pleasant surprise. Anyways, shall we?"
Urden's mind wandered briefly while getting underway to make the search happen. He suspected a night raid on whoever was up to no good this time, it was a clever idea with soldiers who could pull it off. Night raids were tricky affairs though, it was too easy to mix up friend and foe in the gloom, even if the night sky was kind enough to not obscure what light it provided. However, that was a matter for the briefing to come as he focused his attention once more. At the leisure of the Shilage, Urden would take the lead strolling the last known path he had seen the moody lad wandering off on. It reminded him of just how....varied a band this group had become. From merchants and mercenaries to lords and noble heirs, you could find near anyone in this merry group. Urden chatted with soldiers and camp staff in passing, playing that seeming pleasant demeanor to glean where the Earl had gone. A bit of luck they'd find him in no time at this rate.
"What do we do with a drunken soldier..."
The mercenary Urden was currently half humming, half singing an old working song his previous mercenary company favored when doing menial work like weapon's maintenance, setting up camp, packing up camp and other such idle behavior mostly spent just passing time. Sure enough, having spent the morning counting and verifying that his coin was both good, and in the proper amounts, for this pay cycle, he had turned to preparing for the upcoming conflict. In time with the hummed, occasionally sung, working tune, he ran a whetstone along the main blade of his two handed axe, honing its edge to as keen as he could given the circumstances. It was no blacksmith's work or anything of the sort, but it wasn't like they could expect a forge to follow this warband around so readily. The merchant who had seen fit to attach herself to the band was hawking goods, food with a voucher for pastries after words. He'd already eaten, or the offer might have been more tmepting.
"...Dock his pay with extra duty, dock his pay with extra duty..."
Urden appeared to be in a pleasant mood as he worked away, hefting the axe with practiced ease, examining the main cutting edge of the blade. Setting aside the sharpening stone, he tugged a loose hair out and let it fall on the axe blade, splitting neatly with little resistance. Nodding in approval, mostly to himself, he turned the axe over and started working on the opposite end, the spike that would be far more suited to punching through armor than it was for hacking away like the main axe head would be. So he would work, the sound of the whetstone running over well used, but well kept, steel. Nothing about the weapon was for show, the haft sturdy enough to catch incoming strikes, both ends of the axe head having their own uses. Even the other end had a sturdy steel cap on it to make for a nasty surprise for anyone who thought they were safe from a surprise strike while the obviously dangerous end was away from them. Just one of many different tricks he kept in mind when dealing with your average trouble.
"...Twenty strokes of the captains whip, twenty strokes of the captain's whip..."
Nothing about what Urden had heard so far sounded like bandits to him. They struck fast, sure, but looked for coin and valuables, maybe some living hostages to sell back later or to prevent immediate attacks on them for fear of losing even more innocent lives. Near as he'd heard from around camp, it was anything that wasn't nailed down. If you could pry it up, it didn't count either, apparently. That...that was odd. Corpses weren't worth a lick on their own, and most bounties per head only needed proof. Ears, fingers, things like that, grim as it was to some. Whole bodies though, that was a lot of dead weight, pun intended, to be lugging about. Something was amiss, though end of the day Urden got paid the same. Didn't matter what kind of out of their head bandits, soldiers, whatever was waiting out there for them. Nothing good steel backed by good pay couldn't sort out.
"...Early in the morning..."
The mercenary Urden was currently half humming, half singing an old working song his previous mercenary company favored when doing menial work like weapon's maintenance, setting up camp, packing up camp and other such idle behavior mostly spent just passing time. Sure enough, having spent the morning counting and verifying that his coin was both good, and in the proper amounts, for this pay cycle, he had turned to preparing for the upcoming conflict. In time with the hummed, occasionally sung, working tune, he ran a whetstone along the main blade of his two handed axe, honing its edge to as keen as he could given the circumstances. It was no blacksmith's work or anything of the sort, but it wasn't like they could expect a forge to follow this warband around so readily. The merchant who had seen fit to attach herself to the band was hawking goods, food with a voucher for pastries after words. He'd already eaten, or the offer might have been more tmepting.
"...Dock his pay with extra duty, dock his pay with extra duty..."
Urden appeared to be in a pleasant mood as he worked away, hefting the axe with practiced ease, examining the main cutting edge of the blade. Setting aside the sharpening stone, he tugged a loose hair out and let it fall on the axe blade, splitting neatly with little resistance. Nodding in approval, mostly to himself, he turned the axe over and started working on the opposite end, the spike that would be far more suited to punching through armor than it was for hacking away like the main axe head would be. So he would work, the sound of the whetstone running over well used, but well kept, steel. Nothing about the weapon was for show, the haft sturdy enough to catch incoming strikes, both ends of the axe head having their own uses. Even the other end had a sturdy steel cap on it to make for a nasty surprise for anyone who thought they were safe from a surprise strike while the obviously dangerous end was away from them. Just one of many different tricks he kept in mind when dealing with your average trouble.
"...Twenty strokes of the captains whip, twenty strokes of the captain's whip..."
Nothing about what Urden had heard so far sounded like bandits to him. They struck fast, sure, but looked for coin and valuables, maybe some living hostages to sell back later or to prevent immediate attacks on them for fear of losing even more innocent lives. Near as he'd heard from around camp, it was anything that wasn't nailed down. If you could pry it up, it didn't count either, apparently. That...that was odd. Corpses weren't worth a lick on their own, and most bounties per head only needed proof. Ears, fingers, things like that, grim as it was to some. Whole bodies though, that was a lot of dead weight, pun intended, to be lugging about. Something was amiss, though end of the day Urden got paid the same. Didn't matter what kind of out of their head bandits, soldiers, whatever was waiting out there for them. Nothing good steel backed by good pay couldn't sort out.
"...Early in the morning..."
© 2007-2024