AAR: Sins of the father

From the Campaign desk of Hersir Erudic.

Brother Hannidar,

                              I wish now I had listened harder to you, you and your symbols and rules. I had never thought that your nonsense would have been usefull to me when I left the company and this was, as you would say, shortsighted. I know only a year has passed since we parted but I doubt you would recognise me any more. I spent a long time drifting after I left, searching for the purpose the company lost but nothing seemed to fit. I lost the majority of my savings to the bandits, and my dignity to the taverns and brothels along the way, and looking back, my drifting became falling, drunkenness and violence an easy thing to fall into amongst our people. The gods themselves know I would have welcomed employment as a bandit, If only to find purpose, however vile.

I remember Brother Barrik once told us that the gods sometimes gave lesser men choices in between guiding the great, to test the collective will of mankind. I won't bore you with details but I was hired by a merchant to rescue his brother. Having tracked the kidnappers down, myself and a band of vengeful farmhands attacked them, killing all but the leader. He offered me riches, vast riches, the coffers of a far larger group of killers, but I killed him. A good mercenary always sees through his contract.

I floundered then, my small band of followers butchered mercilessly by sea-raider scum. If King Ragnar and his warband hadn't arrived when they did, I fear they may have killed me to. I hadn't intended to, but I joined the army. It was, different. The Brothers in gold were tied to each other by oath, but the Kings men tolerated me only because of my oath to him. In those early days I was an outcast, almost a pariah, even amongst the other recruits. I know now that it is done on purpose, the veterans assume we will die, and so don't form attachments.

I fought and killed, follwed my orders and fought in the front wave of the army time after time, and I survived. The great battles of Rizi, Ryibelet, Ambean and Mechin all fought from the front. The siege assaults were the worst. Such slaughter. Still I stand. King Ragnar had been good to me, promoted me to his huscarl, a member of his elite bodyguard troop, and rewarded me beyond my dreams. All this in barely three months. And the riches, great riches. My life since that fatefull oath has been blessed. Even meeting Ymira, one of the camp followers was a blessing. A dab-hand with a sewing needle, she has saved many lives, and follows me still.

She asked me yesterday why I took the decision to leave the army, and I couldn't answer. I suppose I knew, there was nothing left for me to achieve there. I was one of his best soldiers, a fierce warrior, wealthy, even my armour and weapons were fine beyond recognition thanks to the unknowing wills of dead enemies. With the army I learnt to survive, to fight and kill with the best of them, but I needed a new challenge.

Brother, the day grows dark, and I must finish for today, there are reports to read, and the night watch to set, and for this I thank you. You were always right, symbols and words have made everything possible.

I wish you wellness and safety and may our brothers guide you home.

Brother Erudic
Hersir Tadsamesh

From the Campaign desk of Hersir Erudic

Brother Hannidar,

I am happy that my letter finds you well, and in good spirits. I wish you and anna the happiest of births, and I would be honoured by a visit, you would be most welcome. I cannot however awnser your question outright, but I hope what I will write here explains it.

It seems as though my life is tied to war, though I must not complain while the profits continue to stack, and I have all my limbs. My departure from the army was honourable, and I was truely touched by the sentiment of the other men as I left. My regiment commander, the senior Huscarl embraced me, and reminded me of the life he still owed me after Rizi. Ymira even followed me, gods bless her. At first we merely wandered the countryside, avoiding bandit parties and heading for Sargoth, and a dyeworks, an investment I made after remembering you advise. The profits it makes has kept me ahead, and given rise to the man I am today. The first of them were Sigmonds freelancers, part mercenaries, part sworn-man, who I hired to keep Ymira and myself alive on the roads, Intent as I was on running the dyeworks as a viable buisness. Hardly Huscarls, but useful and cheap caravan guards. My Lancer guard the men call them now.

It seems odd to me now, in those early days how men came forward to my little party in ones and twos, looking for work. I took all comers, as you know the coast is hardly a friendly place for small traders, and with the sea-raider menace as active as ever the more men the merrier. More and more men came forward, even some more freelancers courtesy of Sigmond, and the caravan grew and grew. I started taking tasks, mostly from noblemen I met on my travels, men who knew my worth as a huscarl and trusted me enough to keep my word. Man and bountyhunter, tax collector, special courier, I took any. It kept me busy, and happy nobles means happy customers.

I have been told since that men joined me on the promise of action, a promise I never actually made. They knew of my service to the king, my grand failures in the tourney's, saw my heavy armour and blade, and took me for a man who loved action. I suppose it is useless claiming I only wanted peace to trade now.

I was honoured when Hersir Aedin offered me a mecenary contract, but I wouldn't have accepted if it hadn't occured to me, that I already was. Forty men follwed me, ready for action, and I felt a duty to them, to provide for them the riches, honour and glory they hoped for. I was a Captain in all but name, and Aedins purse of gold, and royal warrant made me one in that also. I reorganised, drew my freelancers and companions into me, a hardy core, while the recuits, because they mostly were recuits formed the rest.

I spent most of my time as a mercenary running around doing odd jobs for lords, until our first campaign. The army of the realm assembled near Tehrog castle, Hundreds of men, my small party of 50 men stuck in the middle. Olaf was in charge, so it was him who dispatched me to Rivacheg, to test out he enemy. A bloody suicide run. Deep into enemy lands, with no cover, I still wonder at how we made it out.

I wasn't at the fall of Tilbaut castle, I still had my arse hanging out into the breeze near Curaw when the messanger arrived. The castle had fallen, and in his infinate wisdom, (and in part as reward for the 'clandestine' mission I pulled in Rivacheg for him) King Ragnar had bestowed the villiage of Tadsamesh, a wasteland, devoid of life on me, one of his former huscarl life guard. I didn't sleep for days, not until I collapsed exhausted into a bed in sargoth, where I write from. King Ragnar is celebrating his victory with a party, and I'm one of the guests of honour!

Please write to me brother, and please gods visit, you would be a sight for the soreest of eyes.

Brother Erudic
Hersir Tadsamesh

Great chapter. I'm looking forward