Mount and Blade II: Bannerlord
Imperial Resolution
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." -
Napoléon Bonaparte
Chapter I
Three days had passed leaving Rhemir to lightly avoid having his mount stepping into a flooded portion of road. The weather broke into far more pleasing temperatures, or rather an unopposed sun flooded an entire valley to melt away some frozen white. Yet he lightly nicked his tongue when someone nudged a leg, "Boy! What in the name of the god's balls have you done now, three days and you haven't said much about...that." Falonog referred to one supply train cart which had been cleared out for housing a bundle of skin and fur.
She might have taken one too many hits to that thick skull, I'm starting to realize it all too easily I should have expected it. Gods, why do you hate me so much? Recalling in using what little meager skills one could imagine as blessing of the gods, it'd been a painstakingly annoyance to keep at. Stitching flesh together on words from a butcher no less, Rhemir idly wondered in sheer exasperation if he were cursed with such memories. And now for some damned reason the woman found herself with a fever somehow.
"If I knew more than what you'd know, I'd have said it by now." He finally lamented to give an elder man an earnest look of resignation, "I only asked for her name. And she's out cold for three days, you tell me if that isn't a thick skull?" An axe handle lightly found itself along broad shoulders comfortingly to make a leer grow prominent. The hideout provided some rewards to their losses, if losing four men and being able to salvage little besides potential coin. Most of whoever those inside that place killed had all, but destroyed most of their spoils in fires meant to keep evidence from whoever had eyes in selling off scavenged weaponry, armor and other such things.
Phaea, such a nice name this far west. He sardonically thought shaking his head to ward off a stiff neck when mentioning to his friend, "You know anyone with a name like Phaea?" Falonog shrugged not willing to remember considering it stood out akin to bears among deer, "Nope." He said after several minutes not bothering to humor that question. Considering they were nearing a crossroads where three kingdoms met, it'd be easier to find out from people who knew of such things and among whores, coins were well pleasured.
"I've been living around Rovalt for years, boy and you grew up in these lands too." Vlandia had quite an interesting conception of lands considering either half would be frozen in winter, or was too moist to have anything except bugs sucking blood out of men. Least I like snow more than rain, I can actually get warm and enjoy myself. Shaking himself from phantom issues in childhood garnering an intense hatred of insects certainly kept things stable.
But he didn't bother denying that they'd stumbled into something different, "You know I'm not keen on the Gods providing omens. However we get a contract offer in Sturgia, we lose someone whose smart enough to keep their ass clean and now this woman?" Rhemir laughed almost loosely to admit quite frankly, "You damn well know we're onto something! Because I have no idea, or what in horseshit I've gotten into again."
The man took a modest swing of ale from his canteen to belch loudly, "We stop by that city along that river, I guess we'll find out. Haven't seen many other mercenary bands around here, usually we're fighting for scraps and for these two months? Ain't a rat, if someone's feeding them somewhere else." Rhemir cocked an eyebrow finding that almost too sensible considering it'd made sense, they were possibly one of the last in these lands freely taking offers. And not encountering any of their friendly competitors certainly had been oddly...fortunate.
"Contract offers." The young captain laughed wondering if they were just that unlucky to catch onto possible coincidences, "I'm thinking we got lucky, but there's talk of war. And I sure as haven't been alive to see any, so you thinking we're being bought up to head off into Tyal?" Falonog hardly seemed worried given he replied genuinely impressed, "War's where we bathe in blood and gold, boy. Trust me, you'll make so much that anything else is just a beggars game. We'll find out since it's got me hard thinking about those days, yet despite that pretty little ass in that cart has got me curious! Why, it is because she don't fit in!"
Rarely did his oddity for a friend ever say so much. And whenever he did? Things always get lively, so what are we walking into? Woman's pretty face aside, might be worth something to ransom off if who I think is in town ahead. Looking up at blue skies did he idly pull out a dried out parchment to go over what they'd known mainly by willing ears. Peasants talked of seeing huge numbers of their sons, or fathers marching off towards castles lately.
"You think..." Before either man could react a shout was heard from behind due to one of their band sprinting. He panted to gesture to him specifically, "That woman's up! And she almost bit one of our guy's ear off for checking in. Something about, 'Water, blue eyes, man.'" Rhemir leaned back groaning loudly to close two eyes accordingly. Falonog couldn't resist laughing happily to slap his horse's ass, if only in making an animal almost rear back angrily.
Fuck! Screaming that alone word didn't help an already growing desire to have left her to rot. But he nudged a mount to lightly begin trotting back as a friend's echoing laughter bordered on someone making bets. And he was half tempted on missing out, it wasn't fair. Three days of sleeping, bites an ear off? Gods, what a woman whose got the thickest skull on this world.
Trotting down an entire line of men as several had hands on swords due to one cart remaining in place. Two who were initially manning it gestured tiredly at an interior, "Careful, captain." A bearded veteran gruffly chortled, "She nicked this idiot's dagger off his belt. And she nearly took his ear off, oh gods help you for this prize." Rhemir gave a withering glare at an idiot who seemed genuinely embarrassed considering he'd been memorized in being caught off guard. But someone nearby laughed heartily in telling the actual truth.
"She flashed him those tits, grabbed the boy's dagger and almost took his ear off." Several among them roared jeering at a burning youth, Rhemir came close to cutting this idiot's head and cock off. Most were unable to contain their mirth due to their most recent additions. Barely away from farms, or villages so remote that even seeing a woman's ass would have them reeling. Why are these kids not able to find whores! Gods, it's not that hard.
Exhaling loudly while eying a closed flap did he peer behind seeing men standing guard just slightly down the road. Least they know, sneaking out the back isn't going to work. Dismounting while gesturing to a youth who barely looked of manhood, "If you don't stick that useless piece of flesh inside some damned hole when we stop at the next city, Gods as my vow I'll cut your balls off and make you a eunuch." The raw recruit nodded fearfully before Rhemir took a long breath warding an urge to go through with it just to compose himself accordingly.
Folding parchment back into his pocket did he just make sure a canteen was filled modestly. Full enough, oh why I do this to myself? Devil's smile, huh? Pleasantly smirking in finding that far too entertaining did he get himself up onto a cart. Lightly tapping on a flap into exposing an open palm did he call out, "Good afternoon." He might have as well seem plenty civil yet in hindsight it seemed easier, "You thirsty after three days of sleeping off that head wound, or are you going to terrorize one my men into shame?"
Pulling himself up just to see a tip of iron gleaming right at his eyes did he pause quite dumbfounded in all honesty. Fast too, I guess she's not stupid. The woman's blond hair still had traces of dried red caking it, if only giving her a feral appearance yet warily glancing past a dagger towards her pale complexion did voice truth to fever. She honestly looked too damned sickly, it'd be less than satisfying to blame her as opposed to an idiotic youth. Either way, if they couldn't continue moving along these roads then they'd be wasting time overall.
"Do you mind, Phaea?" Rhemir lightly tapped a dagger's shaking length due which came awfully close in nicking his cheek. The woman blinked exhaustively as he raised a canteen swishing liquid within quite loudly. When she refused to lower a weapon did he offer water, "In case you don't remember too well? I asked your name couple days ago, I was in front of you since you were chained and mostly starved of drink. I said your only chance to get out alive...you gave me your name, so as promised here you are breathing."
Dark eyes bluer than his own blinked owlishly until he heard her whisper, "Who are you?" The mercenary band's leader countered that question, "If you let me in, I'll sit down and we'll be on our way on this road. Take a drink, I'll answer." The canteen which had been extended was eyed suspiciously, even among strands of hair mixed with grim, sweat and blood. Yet after several minutes she retracted a dagger despite snatching it out of his gloved hand.
Rhemir almost found himself tempted wrestling that weapon out of her hand out of sheer consideration. But being too close left a lot of time to get stabbed in his face. Gods, I can just see this is going to be a long, long and horseshit filled trip to Tyal. I should have left her to rot in that cave. Whistling lightly to several men who he told loudly enough, "Take the horse's reins and keep pace with others ahead. And put away your swords, I'm the one in danger...remember?"
Crouching down to avoid groaning when sitting adjacent to a woman who greedily drank liquid to cough roughly. And continued to do so with himself sitting modestly impressed, "I'd hate to think if that were wine, or ale for you to drink so quickly." Her exhausted look bordered on glaring despite failing terribly to drop a dagger out of sheer tiredness. Yet extending both legs to have them be angled into pushing some covering aside, he leaned back trying to get comfortable in a place padded by leather and fur's respectively.
"Who are you?" The young mercenary replied to that question easily, "I'm Rhemir. Mercenary, hired sword, or local trader based out of Rovalt." He listed off casually brushing aside an urge to flip a knife when her hand settled on raising a dagger quickly. And a scourge of peasants whose heads get too rich for their own good. But you don't need to know, or I'd kill you. Pleasantly grinning did he ask a question in return, "And how in god's ways did you end up in a hideout of mountain bandits? They're not exactly a nice bunch to welcome...a woman."
She gulped down water as if it were a lifeline much to his astonishment. Almost all of it in minutes was certainly amazement, if it were ale or wine he'd been incredibly insecure. Might as well keep on prolonging a farce. Roughly gripping a youth who had his gaze fixated on a road, "Hand me your water, now." An elder mercenary aside laughed under-breath mainly in hearing most of what had been occurring so far.
"How did you end up in that room?" Rhemir leaned back stretching to close both eyes humming expectantly as she retorted hotly, "None of your concern. Nor is it your place to ask!" Cracking an eye open did he only hold up another canteen of liquid. And swished it around knowingly, if her panting indicated an ever terrible lie of craving.
We'll play this game, woman. His smile curved a bit too impishly, "If you answer, I won't feel bad for not offering you food next." Flipping the canteen over made her react in trying to avoid it, if only garnering himself to laugh far too surprised. Shaking his head to look back onto a road where men were occasionally tossing coins. Ah shit, I'm paying up since I got a coin on two days and some smug bastard is collecting for throwing three to one up me.
One empty container fell with her drinking down a second just as urgently. Apparently three days nearly killed off manners in his idle reflection. Breathing heavily she did manage to bite out something along a command to an inward suspicion, "You must not ask me, why." Not one deterred did a man comment rather sardonically, "Why you were being considered to be raped, or not too spoiled for someone else? Gods woman, I'm all ears since that's not something I see or hear in this line of work by your luck."
It'd been a reasonable risk in lying just slightly to use some truth to his intentions. But it seemed to make Phaea stare behind where slits of light were visible, "I have my reasons." Rhemir earnestly rolled both eyes to state an understanding to be keenly aware of secrecy, "I'm a mercenary, woman. Reasons are just contracts for coin that make me spill them, or keep them." There was a measure of deliberate words in implying whether if she was wealthy, if given her attitude bordered on pompous obedience. Come on, if you're this stubborn then you're too easy Phaea. Take the bait, I think I hear coins in a pouch somewhere.
She drank mouthfuls to gasp for air contently gripping a dagger's hilt tersely, "Where are we heading, mercenary?" Not referring to his name certainly got a smirk to openly draw attention, "My current contract is journeying to Strugian lands. Specifically the city of Tyal, I've got to be there within sixty days and we're close to Battanian lands. My company and I plan to restock supplies at Car Banseth." Earnestly explaining their route wasn't much to hide considering it garnered more answers for him to witness. Phaea's expression looked distinctly alert when sharply looking at him, if only exposing an obvious fear that tailored a smirk into leering.
"What's wrong?" Saying two words quite entertained to remind her, "It's not like you don't have reasons for not telling me, why? I suppose being chained where even bandits would have made their home, only to be killed off and used...isn't that a price to be paid?" Absently crossing legs just to relax didn't particularly reveal anything about his own intentions, but that lingering implication to pay his company wouldn't be ignored. Who pays someone enough to kill off a group based in the mountains, waits for days along a road and hides in trees to capture...you. Oh, if that isn't price to be paid to keep that secret then I'm a monk.
Already she'd revealed enough to him in selling her off in Car Banseth to a local slaver who made coins flow for blood. But as far as she knew? She thinks we were clearing out a hideout and found her by chance, which I think makes sense. Her gaze swept outside past trying to think quickly, if a dagger trembling indicated anxious concern. Whenever she tried to lie, Rhemir honestly could state a cow's ass had better chances to pull it off.
"How much were you paid to clear them out?" Rhemir's smile bordered on being flattered when warmly retorting, "That mountain? It's been known they were around, but I suppose a few villages will be grateful when we trade for goods. Other than that, we're being paid eight hundred gold for simply venturing to Tyal as a down payment for us to arrive on time." He again leaned back yawning due to using several fur pelts to cushion his back accordingly. It almost got to a point where he'd run circles in his sleep with Phaea's inability to lie outright.
Fur blankets seemingly were tightened up around her as a concerned frown etched itself to an unseen smile. He didn't bother speaking for a time, more so in favor of listening to men converse outside with horses nickering due to muddied water splashing them. And in all honesty, it'd been a real change of pace resting inside an almost tavern felt attempt of hospitality. I might have to try this more often with others we find, I might just get lazy and get their hopes up. Or extort them, if this contract by Sturgia doesn't keep my purse in check.
Expecting her to cave came almost to cause him a shock when she replied lowly, "How far are we from Car Banseth?" Seriously eying her pensive expression gave off an impression of a person struggling to come up with an excuse, "Two days, Phaea. If you have need of my company, I'll consider it since your secrecy seems valuable. But take your time, I suppose." In the end he shrugged off her stare even though drinking down water again. Rhemir never bothered to say anything well in favor of allowing her eventually come to terms in getting rest.
This is going to be an interesting trip to that city, I almost forgot I consider it a second home away from home. Smiling barely to himself did he lean back to rest comfortably. And as the company continued it's march eastward, he only spotted a dagger underneath fur's with a blond woman closing her eyes to turn away. Yet he couldn't deny in seeing a single tear running down her face as if struggling to come to terms in being at someone's mercy.
Car Banseth's gates were unusually packed with numerous caravans and various peasants who were complaining due to city guards inspecting every piece of ware known to the Gods. Rhemir yawned loudly leaning against his party's own supply carts, if only the lead one where a sleeping woman rested relatively. Two days of awkward conversations, only thing I get is a vague promise she'll consider in making a decision about an answer. I maybe a patient man, but my sense of generosity is going to be extremely vindictive after tonight.
Most of his company were lazily flicking rocks along streams, or drinking to pass time away with every inch being made. It'd been two hours in a mile long line of irritated traders, peasants and even Battanian militia's seeking aid further south about bandits hiding in trees. It's all fun, laughs and whores until tree's speak foresters. Grimly knowing their deadly sense of patience, he'd encountered smaller groups near Vlandian borders. Surprisingly they were keen on selling captive slaves for ale and grapes much to his befuddlement at times.
"How's your woman, boy?" Ignoring an urge to throw a knife at a bearded man whose towering presence tempted him to try, "Why is she mine? Have I fucked her, or is this your rumor to make me wish I'd been impatient?" Falonog had a twisted sense of humor at times, if only at his expense and quite frankly most of his company were grinning due to coins being exchanged again. Fucking ungrateful bastards, I pay you and you bet with him? I've fucked whores before, so why...oh, gods it's going to be about what's in Sturgia. Horseshit!
Boredom had devilry all over it, or idle imaginations were a means for gold to be passed. It'd been a quiet pair of days leaving him to yawn at times as well. Battanian lands were filled with hills, forests and even more tree's capable to make a man go blind. Overall in his opinion little had been exchanged in encountering sporadic local roaming bands of peasants seeking aid, or warning of looters who immediately fled in seeing his company. Unless they were of considerably number, it'd have been a waste to give chase for such little reward.
"I curse your sense of fun, if this is about...who might show in Tyal." The bearded man grinned savagely to slap his shoulder roughly, "Oh gods, I haven't forgotten boy. And bless the Gods for you giving me an idea, now I have two pools of gold to go on." Rhemir groaned covering his face to drag flesh down in warding off an unnatural headache worthy of a plague. I hope you get that burning itch in your pants, I swear I'll sacrifice a cow to the gods for them answering my prayers. Bastard, I'll relish in your agony for weeks.
Looking upwards towards towers which overlooked an entire open plain did he notice far more troops posted than his last visit. Months ago, it'd be one man for every length exposed between granite and wooden gaps. Yet every one had been filled with men staring down constantly, or switched whenever another came from behind garbed in greenish uniforms. Rotating shifts even during the day, well, well, well. Now I guess rumors have truth to them for once. Peace is being deliberately strung out if they're upping security, or else all these changes are for war. It'd be my first one, if Strugia's gathering for other mercenary bands. Someone's paying for an army, I'd guess at this rate.
Even so rumors were intentional misdirection considering what he'd experienced skirting laws and flirting with dungeons meant for criminal elements. So he eventually considered times were changing, Rhemir didn't bother looking above those who'd been swimming in gold. Still, maybe Branco the Slaver can give me some insight. He's more in-tune with the upper lords, clans in these lands, I don't get a luxury in seeing them around. If they ever venture in open eyes, I haven't seen any for quite sometime and it's scarce I encounter them so far out. Tapping a boot patiently tolerating merchants bickering ahead with each other managed to make boredom seem entertaining.
"Boy." Blue eyes lazily looked over to a taller man who leered, "You're being asked for by the pretty face of a woman." Turning over to stare did a fur covered guest stare uneasily aside, Falonog gruffly snorted and slapped his back encouragingly for a bet's prize at stake. I'm never going to hear an end to this madness, I just might cheat and win if gold gets pooled further. Humoring an ever unsatisfied urge never hurt considering one small detail, he often never bothered reliving himself due to managing and keeping busy so much besides getting drunk rarely.
Regardless he pulled himself up ignoring leers from more than a few besides Falonog who hooted like dogs. Must be quite a bit of gold wagered, otherwise they'd have ignored it. Rolling both eyes frequently into becoming almost a habit. Never too late to learn new things! As such Rhemir found himself sitting comfortably to crack his neck to ward off stiffness. Unsurprisingly standing nearly in the same location for several hours, although it proved it'd finally came at an inability in costing to humor patience.
The interior stunk more than usual yet it certainly wasn't as overbearing compared to most odors when he sat down. Phaea eyed an outside flap warily to such a degree that one dagger remained tightly hidden underneath furs, "I can't be seen here!" She tightly ordered for a better lack of anxious concern leaving himself to raise an eyebrow, "Did I stutter? You cannot have me seen in these lands, or else..." The woman stopped herself abruptly leaving Rhemir to idly tap a knife's edge against his forearm's leather exterior.
Oh, now I'm interested. Glancing over in seeing they were not too far from being inspected did he ask casually, "Any reason why I should be concerned? You've had a couple days to at least tell why I should risk my company's heads for...you?" He gestured lightly to notice Car Banseth city guardsmen draped in greenish capes picking through bickering merchants. Some yelled out in sheer annoyance due to some goods spoiling, or were already late for delivery due to guilds being notoriously akin to pricks for gold exchanges.
Eying several guards who roughly shoved several merchants back did he grin subtly. Well, I guess I know who got promoted recently. Luck and faith, I love so much! One particular man stood out leaning within an internal portion of the gates, he seemed bored or outright sleepy given he'd been familiar to himself. Winds blew sternly across an open field partially frozen with brackish sludge pits, Rhemir couldn't help but notice city garrison troops were routinely breaking it apart and light pits of warm fire to keep said locations thickened.
"Please." She whispered harshly gripping a dagger close underneath fur layers, "If I'm discovered, you'll be killed for...keeping me hidden." Inwardly groaning at how dense this woman seemed to believe he humored good will, it'd be best to lead a blind horse to water in similar fashions. Why would someone want you killed? Are you rich enough, or not? Easily wiping away an urge to yawn did he decide to be a bit more direct.
Nonetheless he leaned partially outside when merchants were waved on through, "Phaea." He said her name coyly, "Why should I care about your safety? Can you offer me something?" A cleaned off knife's tip tapped against coins inside his pouch which would came in handy sooner than later, "If you're so worried? I'll consider it since I told you about secrecy, it's a contract and I'm paid to consider it a business." Already strange occurrences were tempting him to milk out every possible avenue of gold, or barring that to head to the slaver if he was in town immediately.
"If you keep your word, I...could pay for your services." She hesitated quite unsure when spotting city guards waving Rhemir's party forward. Could? Giving her a lazy stare bordering on unconvinced promises made her gaze sharply narrow. And as Battanian voices got closer, "Keep me safe! If you get me to Epicrotea, I might be able to secure you a reward." Now that got his mind churning gears considering he'd never been that far east considering it was underneath Imperial lands, it certainly made him curious enough to humor her demands.
So you were traveling through Vlandia, obviously to avoid Battanian lands and as such you were heading towards Strugian borders, or were you avoiding roads to that city because someone was waiting? Questions largely amounted to him simply agreeing considering he'd be needed to convey his party's business. Nonetheless he smiled pleasantly, "Promises are only upheld with gold, Phaea. Don't forget it, or else I'd be inclined to wonder why you keep asking." She wasn't assured given he leaped off onto partial snow covered dirt, if only to brush himself off to stretch underneath bright sunny conditions.
"State your business, mercenary." A guard questioned roughly noticing distinct lacking of banners and lucrative goods. Rhemir didn't bother when several of his men leaned lazily against supply carts, even if some chortled loudly. He's certainly a new face, oh well. They never learn who pays them outside those who know them best. Smiling kindly he informed them all too easily, "Supplies and selling off what we've earned, we're journeying northward towards Strugian borders. Snowfall's been rough and I figured selling what we have in stock, for food, drink and whores would do my men well considering it'll be a longer road to do so."
Looking past a scowl did he whistle loudly in gaining one Battanian's attention, "Is Tethe among your group presently, guardsmen?" It was an elder man who'd had decades of service to wave the younger officer out from a gate's interior. And before long he smiled widely in seeing a pair of brown eyes behind one full faced helm. Certainly someone had gotten a promotion, or ascended into wages capable to purchase near full armor covering them effectively.
Tethe's sheer bulk rivaled Falonog who roared happily, "I'll be a horse's ass! Little man!" Considering both were taller than most men, they embraced heartily as Tethe's gravel like voice due to being cut across a throat several times responded, "You dog humping bastard! Haven't seen you, or the boy coming through in months. The fuck do you piece of shit snakes want?"
Rhemir quipped openly in making jeers rising in making men go up tossing coins, "To fuck your whore who you paid for, again." Dark reddish hair worthy of beards in legends scoffed underneath a sweating helm when he looked down, "You owe a round for that shit stunt, boy. Pretty face had her all wet and loose when I got her back, I swear you're a devil's child." A playful shrug was met in a pouch being tossed with the man catching it reflexively. In broad daylight Tethe peered inside whistling a bit considering it'd been more than modest.
"What are you selling?" Tethe's voice strictly hardened in causing Rhemir to coyly hint, "Love, furs and maybe paying the smithy a visit. I hear he needs new material, or is he not in town?" Brown eyes slyly caught on to inform him dismissively, "Drunk off his ass, boy. You cause trouble, I throw you in prison and the men aren't picky in seeing pretty faces. You hear me loud and clear?" The mercenary captain nodded raising hands innocently seeking peace, even if both had rehearsed their intentions since he'd been here many times.
Falonog couldn't resist an arm yanking an equal beast of a man who snorted, "You and I need to settle our bout, little man. Ale, beer, wine and lots of fun!" The guard officer laughed lightly pocketing enough gold and silver to pay four men over, "Sadly I fucked one pretty face too many. Her blood didn't run the next month, so I got a spawn to look after soon..." Rhemir whistled impressed just in good sport to flip him another gold coin to garner a nod of grateful amusement. As he caught it easily to finish happily, "And I, as a guard, simply can't ignore good charitable men who appreciate a family's woes. You listen well and easy, you two keep your noses clean, or gods help you."
Tethe's hand waved them forward despite getting expressions of shock when Rhemir walked on through a dozen armed city guard. I like to have friends in low places, we always come around and share drinks because it's good business. Smiling pleasantly to see a gate being raised up where an entire crowded marketplace where hundreds resided. Merchants, vendors and numerous wares being sold brought back fonder times in his mind's eye. Yet it wasn't like home, or anywhere but it'd been close enough to have him enjoy it.
And as he turned around to notice a particular detail sticking out. Phaea had seen everything happen much to his crooked grin overtly growing. Naturally tapping his temple's side, "Luck and gold." He only mouthed to begin merrily whistling in leading a band of mercenaries who slapped shoulders of guards they'd known. It was a nice city, if one knew where to look and fortunately for them as a party known to them? They were only familiar faces who kept themselves out of sight and out of mind for future opportunities.
The tavern's interior was extremely warm and full of cheerful laughter as a fire's crackling provided ample heat. Still Rhemir yawned while rubbing his eyes clean when marking down his party's latest haul after an entire day's worth of running around. Couple hundred gold for furs, flax wasn't too bad. But as for spare weapons, I'm holding onto it until I see if that gang of 'Snake-eyes' is around. Man loves paying out his ass for anything capable to cut a man up. Overall it'd been a sound haul of gold, or silver given some goods were in higher demand. Grain had been a near steal considering he spent only ten coins for nearly five times it'd usually go, so it left plenty of spare profit to consider needing raw material.
"Grain's a lifeblood of any village." Muttering when sitting at a lone table with an entire tavern bustling to near capacity. Tethe had arrived an hour ago, Falonog joined his Battanian kin to drink themselves with guards and his own men cheering them on roaring in encouragement. Women sat between legs, or were getting a little frisky at times considering one youth had been taken upstairs for some intentional experience. One gold coin to teach him the ropes, ride him silly or else he'll be ball less for spawns of his own one day.
Although he didn't technically sit alone considering a person dressed in woman's clothing and had a cowl hiding blond strands of hair, frequently eyed people passing them by. Phaea had been too damned quiet ever since he'd bought her clothing, if only to genuinely amazed in knowing it'd of low clothe and hands sewn. She's not a peasant, or even some landlord's daughter. Make's me wonder if she's rich with coin, or knows someone to think clothing made by commoner tailors is absolute horseshit. The man clicked his tongue going over news from various merchants, or vendors who'd he knew were somewhat credible in rumors of markets shitting out coins.
"You can write and read?" He heard a soft exclamation make him reply flippantly, "Yes. My mother pestered father when we traveled, I'm not a scholar but I learned it's easier to remember ink on parchment, as opposed to memories fading over time." For once in a rarity of actually peering over he noticed her frown to lightly correct several strange literature, "You know to write in Calradic? No, but it's close yet it's a bit mixed within Vlandian? They do share common history with my people, so you're...not from here?"
Rhemir's jawline lightly twitched before folding up anything too incriminating, if she was keen enough to pick up on other notations. Gods, a woman whose dense and smart? What a curse I've picked up on these roads. Last thing he needed was a potential reward trying to piece together old history, or rather not dig it up. It'd be bad for his reputation and party, so until privacy came about it'd be on him to humor company presently.
"How long are you planning to remain here?" Her eyes darted in seeing groups of men both local and not cheering when ale mugs were slammed downward. One middle aged barkeep smiled in serving their games in resigned bemusement, more so happier despite taking over from her father's years ago, "Until I meet someone who shows up." A mercenary captain replied indifferently to crack knuckles alleviating stress. It'd been an hour, or more since night descended to know it'd been early for Branco to show himself.
There was a steady wave of heat just behind his back due to an entire fire being maintained in providing ample warmth for patrons. Hot food sweltered behind doorways meant for chefs to concoct their local pleasures, Rhemir found it all incredibly relieving instead of being paranoid about someone trying to pry into his personal ventures. Not that she can take a hint, I'd say. Downing wine to ease himself into relaxation with booted feet settling on an underlying piece of wood, he'd get cozy to enjoy some down time. And despite playing the waiting game, it had it's merits for one to indulge themselves of they were keen on finding out what made gold get exchanged.
"Do these backwards woodsmen trust you?" Phaea's voice lowered despite slowly raising a mug of ale to taste it cautiously. Her loathing couldn't be hidden much to him shrugging, "Define trust! I've lived near Rovalt most of my life, but I'm frequently around Car Banseth enough to where...they know me a bit better." If she only knew how many were sold in these markets, it'd come off as surprisingly he never made a dent into gaining some profitable exchanges. Yet the gangs who lingered between streets made up for internal jobs.
However her gaze routinely kept trying to spot figures much to his internal curiosity, "You expecting company too?" Commenting for a bit of humoring as a clipped answer came for her in retorting, "I hope not." Beckoning her to explain more became quite tiresome considering he raised a cup full of wine slightly. And it took almost time to crawl when men from his own band began settling on tables to throw coins for gambling.
"Escort me to Epicortea." That seemed of a command in which he shook his head, "Too far out of the way. I've never traveled those roads that far east, more so it'll be at least two weeks and I don't have that much time for good will." Her expression hardened as he pitched almost careless option, "Why don't you go yourself? If you're so assured, I don't see why not in having..." Phaea leaned over a table abruptly causing him to quiet down since her gaze trailed downwards. She was struggling to mull over options for whatever reason's she been hiding mightily.
Strands of blond hair partially exposed themselves with a face that many lesser man would've been stunned by. Except Rhemir wasn't as stricken until a number dropped, "Three thousand." The cup of wine swished liquid within in making him stare briefly. That's quite a payday, so horseshit you're no one important. To toss that much gold? Still it gave a reference whenever the slaver came in, if he could pin that name and ransom in toppling that offer.
"Sturgia can wait, captain." Her tone brokered little in caring about those lands in a frozen north to tighten a fist accordingly, "You don't know why, but I do." Something had to have clicked inside that brain within that thick skull. Or else he'd have laughed in her face! Interesting, now I'm getting real tempted to find out. Peace is ending, I get that much. So why are you trying to hire my ass out, or use my men for your sake?
Inhaling deeply to have two wooden pegs for legs on a chair to lean back against the stone wall. He weighed options carefully considering information would be intriguing, if that slaver showed up soon enough. Openly musing just to get a woman riled up, "Three thousand? Two weeks, I'd rather not break my obligation to a contract I accepted as down payment. If I say, yes..." Stopping himself to leer a bit teasingly, "Who am I pledging my band of men too? I need a name, reason and maybe I'll discuss it with them willingly."
Phaea's face remained stern despite gripping a mug tightly, as if praying to the gods for him to really consider what amounted to protection. I've heard girls beg us to save them, I've seen grown men cry and try to sell said girls off, but someone actually hiring my band to protect them? Incredibly that had been an earnest to the gods holiest of shits he'd ever heard yet. Desperation must have been worse, if he were drunk enough to find it endearing. But all it did was convince him she knew something enough to risk entrusting her life to him.
"You ask too much for secrecy, when you don't give me a reason." Rhemir's smile lifted itself when finishing an entire cup as a tavern's door opened. Through it came several men who looked akin to thugs, but his reason for waiting walked in with enough girth to make two men seem tame. Branco the Slaver, finally! Fat sack of lard waddles halfway to Sargot for all I'd know, I'm surprised you haven't died from all that blubber you consume for ale weekly.
Waddling up a staircase towards an upper floor where rooms meant for whores, or enjoyment were frequent. He gave it a few minutes until something incredibly large above creaking wood, if seeing streams of dust waft down. And now he's set for talks. Standing up while dropping a few silver coins for the woman did he mention, "If a wench comes by? Order yourself some food, drink and relax since you'll be fine. My men are aware if anyone tries anything..." Slyly promising did he partially unsheathe a knife to have metal exposed just enough, before winking almost good naturally to see her expression darken in muted silence.
Walking towards a stair case didn't do much except make him get an overview of an entire tavern's interior. More, or less every seat, bench and wall capable for people to lean up against had been filled with occasional whores dipping heads in-between legs. Overall it certainly was a festive atmosphere considering peace was being waned quickly outside this city's walls. And there was all for horseshit he'd know to figure it out. Mercenaries were being bought out, he'd been among the last and Strugian borders were clearly in sight.
"Rhemir!" Branco's jolly misleading voice greeted positively welcoming as hooded men eyed a youth who settled in a chair. The small round table had small pieces of parchment blank, or filled with small flasks of ink. Candles were set burning modestly, if only to alleviate a potential ransom's worth of wealth for those unfortunate to have survived battles. And as he shook the slaver's hand did a rancid excess of air depart behind said large man.
The smell certainly didn't change too change, "You stink of shit." After grasping a forearm to settle in relaxing while waving off odor. One hooded thug coughed in agreement as another nudged him sternly in keeping eyes fixated on a mercenary captain. Unfolding his own notes which wouldn't be read plainly mainly due to Branco's policy of keeping confidential dealings. And that was possibly his most redeeming value to ask for information purely.
"Heard you're traveling north to that ice shit hole of spears and beards." Referring to Strugia's lack of defining features as said mercenary confirmed it, "Indeed. Got paid eight hundred gold for a down payment to journey to Tyal. I was shocked, if a bit concerned since not many bands are around for us to compete for coin anymore." Branco's clean shaven appearance nodded accordingly when biting on a block of cheese, as ale fresh off delivery mixed to have him belch loudly. Washing seemed to be a blessing whenever rivers turned fresh with snow water.
Though the blubbery for flesh chewed out words literally, "Been talk of peace finally ending. It's been longer since you were born, boy." He tapped on far larger blank parchment stacks, "And gold is going to be flowing in my line of work. So in that sense, what brings you here to this lovely piece of ass called a city, I know it isn't trading peasant girls to some cock starved mayor. Gods help him, I hear his wife is a mean old hag of a bitch and takes them younger ones for some fun if his own cock don't produce a kid."
Rhemir rolled his gaze to wish that slaver hadn't told him at all, "Fascinating!" Drawing out that word caused a hearty laugh when being asked, "So what do you need, boy?" Thanking both the heavens and hell for providing some clarity did wonders for his soul's endearment, "I need information about a name I picked up along some road west of here. Pathos's group, they're dead and what's left of them are being chewed up by wolves in frozen drifts."
Branco's seemingly joyful expression never changed an inch to exclaim happily, "I always knew you'd clean up that mess. Why now?" Blue eyes narrowed less than amused when reaching over to write down a name, "Wasn't me, or else Pathos's would have paid me off." Writing Phaea's name down until sliding over a small piece of parchment did a pudgy man hum loudly. But something incredibly unnerving made even a mercenary band leader blink several times.
The slaver's expression turned cold to stare daringly until thugs moved to a stair cases entrance blockading it off. Oh, I think you know something I don't. Branco didn't move an inch until only to whisper fairly concerned, "You have the truest of devil's luck, Rhemir. And I don't think for one second I envy you for stumbling into shit, or more to make me wish otherwise." Leaning over in peering through wooden gaps to see a hooded person sitting by themselves, Branco chuckled almost terribly concerned for once.
"Let me guess, boy." Lifting up a greasy finger, "Blond hair, pretty face, a smile that'll get ya hard and eyes meant to make yours look like piss?" Rhemir nodded simply in making a man groan pitifully, "If you're trying to sell her to me? Well..." The slaver's smile turned murderously to fill an expression with greed, "Then get the fuck out of this city. Immediately!" He stressed grinning hungrily in making a younger mercenary cross arms curiously. That gesture must have tipped off a man who thrived in seeing things few peasants, or common folks dared to imagine.
Too many questions popped up for him to do as instructed, "What's happening? I found her in Pathos's old hole, I figured she'd be worth selling off since she isn't some farmer's girl." Branco's chortling didn't seem to strike him as surprised, "Greed is good, if you're not mad to tempt fate lad. Now you see, I don't know much besides hearing whispers out of that council of commons shit, but regardless I keep myself scarce. It's good for business when I just sell off those who are worth something for someone to do."
Exhaustively breathing out a headache gave the heavier man one hint to get on with theatrics, "But some strange folk came asking for Pathos about a fortnight ago. And you tell me he's good as dog shit in this snow?" Sipping down ale more as a means to ward off chills, "I didn't tell them, if only someone fucking stupid enough who did ended up without their head. Any how what I did hear, which I'll say got me real interested since not even a night ago from someone up in that council describe an interesting rumor."
Rhemir wrote down as much as he was capable to do since the slaver was doing himself an almost friendly favor, "Someone leading a band of men. No banner, no name given and I heard was seen traveling west in which he has a bounty." That made a pair of bluish eyes look up sharply to have him hiss aloud, "What? You damn well know we left no one alive in that place, Branco. So how in horse's shit is that possible?"
The slaver leered expectantly, "Because those who watch the watchers aren't stupid, lad." An ink tipped quill scribbled something until sliding it over to reveal one number, "One thousand gold?" Rhemir scoffed equally shocked and earnestly impressed, "Dead?" Branco snorted to take back a parchment and crossed it out before revealing, "Alive." And as another hand casually crossed out a number, another took it's place, "And this...is dead."
Once he saw that number a whistle escaped him in sheer sardonic disbelief. Three thousand gold for my mercenary band and I, dead? By the gods, that's what I'd call an interesting...coincidence, Phaea. Gods help him, or damn him since either way it'd be absolutely maddening. Three thousand gold coins in peacetime was akin to a fortune being dangled for those desperate, or eager enough to get their swords stained with red wealth. And she happened to drop that same number, as well as Branco providing the same value?
"The fuck did I just step into, Branco? Who is that?" Thumbing below where his associate leaned back in a straining chair, "Phaea isn't a name native to these lands, Vlandia or Strugia. And I must say Rhemir, I know you stick out worse than a whore's ass whenever I see others deal with myself on good days. Gods above I can say with all my hardening cock, my good heart and several years spent with you to say your new prize is too beautiful. Normally I'd tell you to cut her loose...but you'd be dead men."
Despite dealing with Branco for several years, Rhemir couldn't shake that this man wasn't toying with him as per usual. Never had he seen such a lard of a man turn hard and look utterly convinced, he'd been crossing a sword's blade. He's scared, which is a first in my book. The man wrote down several lines of information swiftly, a rarity considering he loved his own penmanship. Yet it was being hastily written out to avoid being compared to normal past standards, an ever increasing danger of shit thrown around.
"Your prisoner is your saving grace considering, her ladyship is a prize." Rhemir froze mid breath to whisper absolutely stunned, "She's a Lady?" Branco's gruff chortling bordered on pity, "Phaea Dionicos. All I know for certain she's from an Imperial family, or a clan that owns land and men very south of Battania. And you found her in Vlandian territory?" Asking simply to receive a numbed nod which made a mercenary youth lean back unnaturally queasy. Lords and Ladies of the lands, they were not people to mix up beyond being paid in gold.
The slaver laughed coldly to clasp his shoulder firmly, "Then it's safe to say regardless of how you clean up messes, or not in which you're a wanted man!" Branco's mug covered an entire face with eyes glaring keenly in warning, "Get out of Battania, boy. Do not return to Vlandia, I can freely say you just stepped in shit so deep you'll taste it soon enough, more so I'd say this is friendly advice." Laughter from patrons and his own men below all but roared together in earnest yet it was damning to his ears swiftly.
He asked only aware times were changing, "And what do you say as not a friend?" Rhemir exhaled deeply keeping a knowing expression for Branco to smirk cruelly. There wasn't any long winded advice, or warmth from a friend who trusted each other as per their dealings. This was a smile only worth of hunters, of men and this slaver knew people who enjoyed it immensely. He only needed to say one word until a cold creeping shiver ran along his spine's entire length as a lard of a man made it clear, "Run...now!"
End Chapter I
Author's Note: What I've noted in the beginning of the game itself, it's never stated what triggers the conflicts beyond our own assumptions. I do particularly enjoy the unexpected onslaught when the first declarations are made, you simply don't know which is gonna go first. So in this case, I'm using a little reasonable indicator that because of the Imperial Factions fighting against each other, some nation is gonna take moves and start maneuvering, as signs of buying up additional manpower and arms compared to in-fighting within a semi-stable relationship with the Western, Northern and Southern Imperials. This is historically accurate when you see the similar events of the Western Roman Empire falling and later on, the Byzantines when they got whittled down over centuries...pending on who you ask, or you yourself believe, the infighting was in my mind their own worst enemy that facilitated the annihilation of them after enduring over a thousand years, I combine the start of Rome to the End of Byzantium as the whole Roman circle reaching it's end point.
Now why did I choose this particular family of the Western faction, I merely flipped a coin and studied the traits to at least given some sort of suspense and tension that would run parallel to our main character. The traits of characters kind of act superficial considering I hardly see a difference in-game wise, if your person is honorable or devious, beyond likely to betray when later mechanics are involved pertaining to Kingdoms, Fiefdoms, vassals and other such more micro-based decisions you tend to make. And this brings me to an interesting angle, the selling of prisoners/lords/ladies from Slavers in Banner-lord. If you're squeamish, or have some sort of offensive take on this subject: I don't care, because it never ended...it just changed names and it's such a dead horse beaten subject, I might as well laugh my ass off at someone taking moral high ground for it still enduring.
Still on a grounded approach, those traits do lead to what many can organically envision once it's clear and having goals in preventing would be enemies forming pacts to attack your own home is grounds for desperation. Hence the reasoning why they came across the prize, Mercenary bands thrive in war, blood and earn gold, so having one stick out isn't entirely impossible considering the banner-less key. In game, it's your lack of prestige and reputation, so it fits the bill and in this take, you don't have many options. But on the flip side, if you've spent time based on background decisions, I dare say there's at least some merit for having someone who've you known give out a warning...as friendly advice.
Leave a review, and I'll see you next time when I do update.