Prologue
The Second Annals
AN:
For those of you who have known me and my other work of fiction, yes I sometimes asked myself how the hell I ended working up a story on this section.
Here's one of the reason why. One day, I was looking for random things to read since almost all of my favorite fics are still not updated yet, so I looked for things on the fanfiction starting from forums, random fic and other stuff and finally ended up in the Wimblegurk Brigade challenge page.
To be honest I too were interested to do the challenge as well, but unfortunately most suggestion doesn't suit my personal taste. (I'm not saying it's bad btw) Once I checked the comment section however, I found even more suggestion for the challenge. And since I have read stories with a mage, a knight, a mercenary, and many other things from the original tab and several other crossovers such as Doom, Fallout and Bloodborne, I took a moment to ponder several what if's scenario and ended up making this story.
The funny thing is although the mercenary one kinda clicked with me, it didn't actually ring a good bell with mine preferences (I mean it as a way with one preferences, once again I didn't say it's bad, it's just I prefer chocolate over vanilla ice cream, things like that). I do based this scenario with the nobility idea, but it only had a small connection, if any connection at all to the house of Levantine. In fact, I kinda took the idea from Mount&Blade Warband: nobility route scenario with a twist.
All in all, I hope you enjoy this story, So without further ado enjoy the read.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroinu: Kedadaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru, they belonged to Liquid and Majin. And of course any other works of fiction mentioned or used in this story also belonged to their respective owners. I only owned the story, the OC's, and several background lore I made.
-Continent of Selenus-
Selenus, a land under the patronage of the Goddess Laurendeau. A home to a vast variety of species and culture spanning from the Western Furdan Mountains to the Eastern Vale. At the heart of the region, the land were split into two, north and south.
The north region are called the Garan badlands. As its name implied, it's an arid wasteland with rough soil and corrupted water. Many savage creatures called this place home; orcs, imps, beast and ogres are few of many monsters who inhabit this forsaken land.
To the south, are the flourishing region full of green pastures and clean flowing waterway. A home to the more civilized race such as Humans, Halflings, and Elves. The people of the south were originally small groups of communities, that would later formed tribes and clans, before they unite and formed their own identity as a nation and people.
Soon, they would enter the feudal age. And due to the Elven priest's gospels about the Goddess Laurendeau, many Human and Halfling kingdom worship her as their patron deity, and her cult as the official state religion for many. This land would later be known as Eostia.
A few centuries after the formation of the first kingdoms, the native of the northern region who were always stay clear of the south suddenly launched a great raid towards the southern kingdoms. They pillage, plunder, rape, kill and slaughter anyone who stood in their way.
Fearing for their approaching doom, the kingdoms forms a defensive alliance to counter this aggression. And with their combined military might, they managed to repel the savages back to the north before they could cause any more devastation. Despite this victory, it proved to be a pyrrhic one. For the casualties and damage were tremendously overwhelming, to the point that several nation broke down to be absorbed by their stronger neighbors without any sort of resistance.
This event would be later known in history as the "First Great War". The savages casualties were unaccounted, but it is large enough to consider that they are crippled, in a sense of manpower for at least a few decades.
However, the humans and other demi-humans race have also suffered a large amount of casualties from the war. The northern kingdoms are either obliterated, or barely surviving, as most of their lands are defiled and scorched. The central kingdoms only suffered mild loss compared to their northern neighbors, but still many of their region were destroyed and few forts left abandoned due to excessive amount of damage to repair.
The lucky nations that only suffered minor devastation from the last war, are the ones to the south or having their nations outside the Eostia region, one such fine example are the island of Nippon where people from far east originated.
After several decades of relative peace, a new power rose once more in the north. A Dark Elven queen began her reign of terror on the desolate lands, and with her unimaginable mastery over the dark arts and seemingly limitless arcane power, she managed to subdue the local monster populace and untamed beasts to her will.
With such power at her disposal, she started another war against the realm of Eostia to the south, which would later be known as the "Second Great War". This time however, Eostia suffered a heavy loss against the semi-organized army of savages, monsters and dark elves which later would be called the Legion. Most nations of the north began to migrate further south, where the bulk of the alliance fought the dark elven queen's army.
Although the allied resistance army has been deployed by the alliance against the endless onslaught of the Legion, they couldn't stop the invasion's momentum that has already devoured most of the northern kingdoms. One by one, garrisons and fortress fell and eventually, even great fortified cities would fall to the horde that the Dark Elf queen has unleashed.
In the end, of the many kingdoms that populated the southern region, only seven remains. As a measure to make sure the royal bloodline and their species survive, some kingdoms formed personal unions with another royal family, or join both of their nations in a confederation.
All hope seems lost for mankind, until one High Elven priestess who claims herself to be the reincarnation of the Goddess Laurendeau. Rose amongst the ashes of the broken alliance, and rally them once more in arms, to face the army of the Dark Queen. Her name is Celestine Lucullus.
With her divine blessings and mastery of Light magic, she gathered the remaining seven kingdoms and formed what is known today as the Seven Shield Alliance. With their combined effort, they construct the seven great castle fortress that would halt the invading army completely.
For the first time since it's inception the Legion's momentum was thrown off of balance, and using this chance the Goddess incarnate launched an immediate offensive towards the dark army's position, and drove them out from the southern lands. Losing their only ground and any hope for further conquest, the Dark Queen recalled her troops back to the north.
This conclude the end of the second great war, yet the battle between the Dark Elven Queen and the Goddess incarnation would went on for at least another ninety years since the second great war. Marking it with an endless skirmish between the two powers, be it on the field of combat or cold political war. This timeline are called the Pendulum Century.
Although losing her momentum, the Dark Elf queen still launch small scale campaigns and raids on Eostia. Trying to apply as much damage as possible throughout the years to slowly cripple the seven shield alliance. She's also started gathering her force and expand her research of arcane and monsters in the last few years for purposes unknown.
Despite their miraculous victory against the Dark Elves, Eostia still suffered a catastrophic amount of casualties from the second war. That easily exceeded the numbers of casualties from the first war, and their manpower is desperately limited to the point that they could no longer send small regiment to repel raids sent by the dark queen near bordering villages and towns.
This is where the Seven Shield Alliance starting to use the service of adventurers. For the past couple of decades, the adventurers pledge their duties throughout Eostia with a large variety of service. Such as caravan escort, package delivery, monster subjugation, raid defense and even demon hunting. Some of those adventurers earned great fame and achieved impossible feats, that they've marked their legends on the hearts of both the people and the kingdoms for generations to come.
After forty years since it's inception, the adventurers started to form larger bands rather than the usual twenty or fifty people guilds, and formed what is known today as the mercenary company. Many other adventurers followed the same path, resulting Eostia to have a large supply of efficient fighting military in the form of hired mercs.
Twenty years since it's first introduced, many companies rise and fall to the test of time. But one particular band of mercenaries, have already made their mark on history as one of the most famed mercenary company of all. They are called the Black Dogs.
With members easily exceeding over twenty five thousand active member they easily become one of the most successful company in their line of work, there are also many smaller mercenary companies and organization that would kill to make themselves part of the big boys. Plus, there's an endless surplus of aspiring adventurers who wanted to join the legendary black dogs mercenaries.
The Black Dogs company, are now officially one of the main fighting force for the seven shield alliance on par with the regular army and the royal knightly orders. However, this does not change the fact that the Seven Shield Alliance and the army of darkness were stuck on a stalemate for nearly a hundred year, tension continue to rise between the leaders, demanding an ultimatum for the great war.
The Pendulum Century is coming to an end, the balance will shift once more. Which side will the Goddesses fortune's favors? Would it lean to the side of the Goddess incarnate, Celestine and finally ensured Eostia's survival? Or would it lean to the side of the Dark elf Queen, for whatever purpose behind her animosity towards humans? Or would it lean to a few individuals for their own personal agenda? Alas, the wheel of fate spin once more.
-Somewhere in Garan, near the eastern part of the great border-
"Captain, the preparation are in place. We are ready for your command sir."
"….. Have you seen Mors?"
"No sir, but I heard Mercy mentioned he saw him near the creek", a dark-skinned giant of a man with gold undertones and clean shaved hair wearing a red coat of plates hinted.
"…. Prepare to move out, and tell Gild to set Fortune up for a long walk home. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"By your orders captain", as the giant man left, the other one left the tent and went into the forest.
As he tread through the woods, his features became clear. A fairly young and tall brunette with sun-kissed complexion and well-built physique, a pair of sharp amber visage bearing a deep thought on his mind. Encased in a full plate mail.
"Figured you'll find me here", an eerie voice said.
"You're leaving?", the man in metal asked.
"Aye, got a job far north. Some Dark Elven serfs wants their cruel masters dead, or at least that was written at the job's description", a small figure, barely reaching the hip of the man appeared. Wearing a full black garb with no visible distinction to any of his hidden feature besides his height.
"Don't forget to bring back some 'souvenirs', I'm expecting good results the next time we meet", the man said as he handed a large pouch.
"Consider the deeds done boss. And for the record, I would like for you to pay me extra gold for those extra 'chores' you're putting me through on this one task", the man reach for another pouch and gave it as well.
"Let's see….. yep this is good ol' goldy commission. You sure are very generous compared to most of my clients boss", the man now identified as Mors, stored his pouch to his satchel as he gave the man a sealed scroll.
"Don't get funny ideas Mors, swindlers is on my top ten shit list. And that doesn't exclude you as a potential new entry."
"Got that message across ages ago boss. Well-paid gold for a well-done job aye? Here's your stuff, I'll keep my end of the bargain", Mors gave him a small wooden tube which the young man immediately took and opened the lid, before Mors abruptly took his leave.
"Be sure not to get obsessed with that info 'kay? You're one of the few smarter and generous clients I had left, and I hate getting new greedy and vicious ones as my business partner", he said as he disappeared into the woods.
The man took out the item within the tube which is an old parchment. He unfurled the scroll and read it's content carefully, "…. I'll keep that in mind."
-Five minutes later, attested from the journals of Annalist Ben Grook-
Five ranks of men stood at attention, each ranks held different equipment, uniform and accessories. At the front of each unit, stand one person indicating their position as respective unit's officers. Across the file formations, are distinctive figures of three men wearing different styles of armor and fifteen heavily armored soldiers stood behind them.
One of the three is a long wavy blonde man with scruffs and a small scar on his chin. A pair of round almond chocolate eyes, wearing a metal breastplate with padded clothes underneath, blue tunic that extend to his forearms and knees, a pair of vambrace on his wrist and brown trousers with leather boots.
A steel arming sword, is safely sheated on his left waist, while on the other side there seems to be a metal baton. At the moment this man, is writing a book with red leather case. His fingers carefully guided the pen through the page, word after word.
Fourth moon day 14th, year 841.
After four weeks on the eastern border, It's finally time to go home.
This is the first entry of the second journal, "Annals of The Dawnwatch Company". Directly continued after the first annals, written by late sir Brevisce my mentor and predecessor. And my current senior; Bilin Half-sight temporarily during the absence of the role.
Firstly, I'll start where we left of in the First Annals. Four months ago our client Baron Vilmert, gave us a contract to scout the eastern part of the Great Border near the edge of his realm. He asked us to patrol the area for any signs of encroaching Legion's raiders. The Baron is willing to pay us fifty gold per month for our service, and add extra forty five gold for any warbands we dealt with. Suffice to say, we reap a good haul this season.
Over the course of four months, we had nine Orc raid group crossing the border. Nothing we couldn't handle mind you, but the first fiive weeks was hard. We barely had any foothold on this damn swampland, and the nearest settlement for our group to resupply is far to the south. Just beyond the Blue Forest, a small trading town called Welss is doing business in fortunately, grains and lumber.
I have to admit, the captain is a smart guy when it comes to contract. He knew that we would need extra resources if we were to hold our position. So he add another clause on the contract for special trading rights in Welss, he asked for all trading goods purchased by the company to be cut half it's cost. This deal also goes with the wages of any service we employ from this village, and with this advantages we managed to build a fort for a cheap price.
Some townsfolk weren't happy with that deal, but the promise of security and protection eventually won them over. Add the fact that the captain would conduct "Private festival" from time to time with the villagers, increased our relations and popularity in Welss.
Now, four months after our contract, the Baron's men who were originally new recruits is properly trained and ready for combat. We were originally hired to prevent any incursion of the northern raiders into our country while the Baron's veteran soldiers recruited more soldiers to protect the border. Captain said that our client is pleased, and already sent for our rewards three days ago.
With this, I conclude the unfinished report of late Sir Brevisce, may his soul finds eternal peace, and his valor retold on history as a brave man and a good mentor. If anyone reading this annals asked, who inherited the position of Sir Brevisce, the Annalist of the Dawnwatch Company? Then I'll introduce him to you.
They called me Ben, Ben Atletio Grook, I am what they called the Company's Annalist, and recently initiated Field Physician.
There are many men that joined this company, men that held various backgrounds and history. Be it fresh armsman to veteran mercenary, traveling traders to highwaymen, upstanding citizen to roaming refugee, those who seeks justice to those who were running from the law, people from all manners of color and stories are here. Each and every one of them were recorded by none other than us, the Annalists.
Which essentially, I'm the guy keeping records of every events, members, contracts, and other things that needed to be recorded.
However even amongst the myriad of characters recorded in the Annals, there are jewels that has took the spotlight from many of my fellow battle brothers.
"First platoon,Raiders standing by!", Platoon leader, Mercy. A slender and tall ravenette with baby blue set of eyes. Ironic persona considering his expertise as a rogue and poacher. Mercy is one of our company's more jolly character, he had a medical history of amnesia which led to him completely forgotten about his past, even his real name before he joined the Company. He is easygoing and as his alias stated, merciful to many, but his innate talent that I had already mentioned leave many questions about his mysterious past.
"Second platoon, Guardsman in position!",Platoon leader Dexon Morrington, or simply Dex. A large and stout fellow. He hada bald head with the only sign of any hair on his face, to be more accurate, it's his black thick brows with an eagle like bronze orbs that stare into the horizon. Dexon is greedy, or perhaps more specifically a glutton when it comes to food and ale. However, he''s also the type of guy that drag people to his feast fiesta. To him, nothing is better than eating with other people, it's a kind of a personal habit, even dare I say a fetish of his. Which I personally don't mind as long as he doesn't chug an ale to my face.
"Third platoon, Lineskewersready!", Platoon leader Morgan Kliks. One of our more grim character. He is considered to be one of the oldest veteran of the company despite not being actually that old, fought every single battle with our captain from the very beginning as a common foot soldier. At his ripe age of twenty three, he'd already sported more war scars than all of his platoon members combined. He had a raven short bob cut, and a muscular upper body with one of his sapphire set of eye misssing. With only one functioning right eye, he always kept one of his men acting as his left eye from time to time.
"Fourth platoon, Manhuntersreporting!", Platoon leader Ribby Anantis, also known as Rib. The only word I had for Rib, is that he was not a man, but a bear. Rib is humongous, even larger than a common orc standard, he had a wild golden goatee and sideburns with with matching shoulder length hair in combination with a pair of chestnut eyes. This feature gave him an impression of a lion instead of a bear, but his pudgy and large form would convince you otherwise.
"Fifth platoon, Sharpshooters standing by!", Platoon leader Sten Dalvaz, but he calls himself Skips. His black hair is well trimmed to the back, with his face clean shaven. Although had to admit that he is a weird man, acting nervous all the time as far as getting sweaty hands and cold sweat over nothing. Yet so far, none of his shots ever missed nor any details escaped his somewhat somber blue ocean orbs. His skittish attitude almost gave of an impression of a rat, but my mentor once mentioned that it is due to his obsession with personal hygiene.
I still don't understand how such obsession gave of the impression of something far from the word, "Hygiene".
A sound of a broken twig, alerted the men. Instinctively, every person reached for their arms and held at ready for any sign of ambush and melee combat.
Emerging from the thick bushels, is none other than the captain in all of his full glory. Encased from neck with gorget to the feet with sabatons, his armor glint brightly despite its seemingly unnatural color. Which is black, and as dark as the night. A silver rose-shaped brooch secured a thick purple cape draped on his back, with a piece of parchment sealed on the right part of his cuirass written in foreign symbols and letters.
On his right arm, he held tightly a sallet helmet with matching color. Modified with an attachable bevor and a comb on top of the skull. Three pieces of large feather in blue, white and red placed on the forehead, just right in front of the comb.
"All platoons, attention!", Sergeant Grover Wall, but everyone called him Sergeant as opposedto his real name, well everyone but maybe me and captain. Grover is a close friend of mine. It was him that recommended me to join the company, a well built man with straight red hair properly combed sideways. He gave of the presence of a well disciplined military officer with no bullshit attitude. Unfortunately, his cornflower droopy eyes sort of ruined that image.
He would always wore what he called, "Proper Officer Uniform". With one of his trademark being his Cocked Hat over a simple metal helmet. His personal protection consist of half platemail with chainmail underneath, which consist of a cuirass, pauldrons, plackart, faulds and tassets. He also favor a cutlass and a flail as his weapon of choice.
Originally, his role is to handle at most, four platoons. But since we're short of available officers, he was delegated to handle all of the present platoon due to it's relatively small number, and the lack of necessity to use advanced tactics. Effectively handing him the direct command of all of our frontline units.
"At ease", the captain replied as he passed through ranks of his soldiers.
The captain, or as the veterans called him, Captain Jojo. Is one of our mysterious characters. According to my former mentor's theory, the captain was once a disowned third child of a major influential family far down south in Julos. But Grover countered that argument with his, believing that the true origin of our Captain is here in Eostia instead. When I questioned the captain about this theory, he neither acknowledge nor denied either claims. Leading me to believe that there are some truths regarding my two senior's statement.
"All the platoons is ready to move out captain", Grover reported.
"Our remaining auxiliary forces and your personal guards awaiting your command sir", the giant man from before added.
Lieutenant Dalion Mcgree, most of us still prefer calling him Lieutenant, are the leader of both the main forces, and the auxiliaries. To put it in a simple terms, while Grover acts as a second-in-command on the field, Lieutenant Dalion would act as a first-in-command directly carrying out any of our Captain's orders. A man with many talent he is, with his expertise at both siege and stratagem never once we've got ourselves overwhelmed while his emerald eyes watching. Not to mention his body size that rivaled Rib, that already said much about his martial prowess.
Unlike Grover, Lieutenant Dalion is legitimately a real senior veteran. Even before the time he joined the company, he'd already went into many campaigns as a hired mercenary back at Daclonus. Presently, he's also the oldest non-wizard member who'd reached the fourth decade.
"…. Where's Half-sight and the others?", Jojo asked.
"I've already dispatch Illan to fetch them. They'll be here soon", as if on cue, a highlight of magic circle draw itself on the ground with purplish hue. Nine bright light shone and slowly formed into a humanoid silhouette, at the height of the bright light the magic circle disappeared, revealing eight men in cloak or robe of diverse color and style with a single man wearing a ripe orange tunic with matching leather vest and black hat.
"Do remind me, why we are wasting MY words of power over a simple walk back to the camp?! Twas only a quarter mile away for God's sake!", said a man with short graying hair and clean shaven face with rare light pink eyes that resemble a rose quartz. Wearing a regal violet robe that complements his pale complexion with three large blue feathers safely knitted to his belt.
Arcanist Wynngot Bluefeather, one of our eight modestly accomplished Wizards. A fairly young person in his line of work. He's turning thirty eight this year, and that is very young considering his position as an arcane wizard of all things. However, he's as stingy as his old man upbringings, didn't like to waste his magic for anyone. Save perhaps for his close colleagues and maybe the top brass like Lieutenant and Captain.
"Quit your Whining Bluey, the captain's wants us here and now, so we got exactly HERE and NOW with your magic! Would it kill you to spare some few magic words, you stingy old man?", another middle-aged man retorted. He wore a bright orange mantle, with matching flame-reddish hair and ebony set of orbs with matching skin color.
Pyromancer Dotri, also known as The Bright. Another of our modestly accomplished wizards. He is our resident's pyromaniac, with an unhealthy obsession for immolation and combustion. His personality is almost the same with his passion; brash, easy to provoke and volatile. Sharp with his tongue, but never sharper than his wit, Dotri had a rather successful career as our member, especially with his recent record of obliterating an entire three unit solo. A terrifying feat as terrifying as the man responsible, but he's a pretty nice fellow once you got to know him, albeit a bit rude to anyone even to captain.
"Do enlighten me about the flaws of my policy, Sir Dotri the "Living Lamp"?", Wynn taunted.
"Hey! At least I'm not some kind of a cheap-skate, aren't I?", Dotri retorted.
"Sir Bluefeather, sir Dotri please cease thou hostilities. There's no need for us to break into another "heated argument" should we?", another man said who'd a youthful persona. His age presumably on his late 20-s, slick raven hair with well-trimmed mustache and goatee in combination with his chocolate eyes. Wearing a set of magenta robe.
Abjurer Marne Filunid, a master of wards and protection (as far as a recently initiated abjurer can get). One of our most recent addition of our moderately accomplished wizards, he was recommended by a friend of the Captain's and was quick to prove himself as a talented mage. Unlike Dotri, this person is a special case, says the captain. Although I have to add, his tender age led him to possess a slightly naive mindset. Can't say he will stay the same after he reached a more senior years, that happened to me once.
"Those two won't quit I see….", commented a senile old man with dark skin and short grey hair, wearing a straw hat with green basil robes and an eyepatch that covered one of his agate eyes.
"It ain't surprising since their ESTEEMED senior, passed down his wisdom to his once adepts. Although which wisdom is a subject left for debate", another one added, yet directed towards the former. A dwarf of man, half the height of the elder with presumably the same age. He had a graying teal hair with a somewhat eternal smirk on his wrinkled face.
"Oh ho… was that a sarcasm GOOD sir Goblin?"
"Of course not my good FRIEND Half-sight, I GENUINELY believe that any wisdom you impart is a good blessing to anyone. Even if said wisdom is nothing but a sack of bullcrap."
"…..."
"…..."
"Come here you little shit!"
"Go ahead and try dirtbag!"
Witch Doctor Half-sight and Illusionist Goblin is our two most senior members in terms of age and arguably arcane knowledge, Lieutenant said that they've been at it ever since they've joined the company. Their quarrel is amusing to say the least, if you can call spell flinging curses and hex as something remotely amusing. Despite their somewhat childish rivalry and disdain towards one another, both of them are powerful enough to face a Wyvern solo, add to the fact that they're veterans and master of their crafts. Unlike most of our modestly accomplished wizards which are either talented Adepts or gifted magos at most.
It's a miracle they haven't killed each other.
"It's always a sight to behold when it comes to these two, don't you agree Silent?", commented another man which bear similarities yet, somewhat younger persona to Half-sight with clean cut face and shaved bald hair and forest green cloak.
"…...", the other is an anonymous person clad with black robe from top to toe, his hood concealed a good portion of his face, with the rest being covered by a grey veil. His figure identify him as a man, as well as his occasional grunts which come very rare considering his name.
The former is our resident Scryer Rum-Rum, he's Half-sight younger brother. Shared the same wit and wisdom as his elder brother, with differing passion, skills and specialties. Rum-Rum could be considered almost a Master of his own caliber just like his brother, if not for his brother's advantage over a day. Not saying that he couldn't reach the title Master just like his brother, but he alone admitted that unlike Half-sight, Rum-rum still can't grasp his own power fully since he considered himself not experienced enough. Hence he considers himself a senior adept at most.
The latter is a man shrouded in even more mystery than both Captain and Mercy combined. He is known as Shadowmancer Silent, Half-sight claimed he joined right after his admission, but earlier than his eternal rival Goblin. However, according to late sir Brevisce record, no one joined the Company between the recruitment of Half-sight and Goblin, and both of them were commissioned at the same day in a close time frame which I have to admit pretty scary. Silent never really speak, he was just that way ever since the beginning. Lieutenant once said that only the Captain knew his backstory, and again when I asked the Captain he neither acknowledge nor denied the Lieutenant's claim. He only told me to ask the man himself, which is pretty much impossible at the current moment. As far as his abilities goes, it involve both shadow and dark arts. Albeit I can't help but see some signs of demonic or ruinous powers, the other wizards claim that Silent never used such arts believing that it was due to my own paranoia.
I hope that's true.
One fair-skinned young man, with light-blonde long wavy hair, sharp ears and bright blue eyes. Garbed in white cloak, approached the Captain, "Finished with your little project Kai?", the Captain asked.
"I have Captain. I must thank you for your patience on my selfish request.", the elf replied as he gave a scroll to the captain.
"This is the detailed report of my recent research. I believe you would be interested in what I found on our recent expedition", the Captain place the scroll on his bag as he dismissed the wizard.
"I'll see to that later Kai, just remember not to pry too much on forgotten history. They're forgotten for a reason, and some secrets are better left untold."
Cryptonist Caimonen, Seeker of Old Rites, or alternatively also known as Kai. The last of our eight modestly accomplished wizards. He is as old as Half-sight in terms of age only younger by few months, but at the same time his bearing is that if a recently adolscent man. As expected of an Elf, and a High Elf at that. At present, he is our only High Elven Member as well as our "translator" of old tongue and pretty much, any other language outside Latigra and Selenus. He's always drag me and the others on his adventures into dangerous ruins full of traps and monsters, and believe me, he would stop at nothing until all the books that piqued his interest were recovered and safely put inside his personal coffers.
A fairly skinny man dragged a black warhorse in full armor. "Your steed sire?", the man asked.
"Thank you Gild, have you finished with your own preparation?"
"My carriage is packed, and my mule's fed sire. I have also finished tearing down your tent in advance, we are awaiting your command to move out", the Captain nodded and wore his helmet as well mounting his steed.
"We are hereby fulfilled our contract to protect the eastern border from any foreign marauders on Count Vilmert's domain. We will return to the city of Ken for rest and recreation until further contracts provided by Johj", the Captain announced.
"Grover, give the order to march", the Captain said to the Sergeant.
"As you command sir. Alright lads, we're moving out!", he cried.
The fifteen armored soldiers immediately mount their respective steed and flanked the Captain in a formation. The mercenaries marched south, with the sun above their heads and the winds on their back.
As our forces marched back to the Capital of the Seven Shield Alliance, Half-sight said that he had a premonition of a changing winds. Which he claimed a sign of changing times.
Little did we know that Half-sight was right, that this mission would be our last short-term contract in a long while.
Nothing to see here. Hope you enjoy,
Chief's out.