Mobile Suit Mount and SEED Destiny: An AAR

[Argeus the Paladin]

So, once again I've decided to try my hand at another AAR attempting to cross over an anime universe with Calradia. Let us hope this time it would end better than my last attempts.

Opening notes:

1) I am playing as Shinn Asuka from, as the name of the thread suggests, Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Destiny. For that purpose, the starting choices are: Traveling merchant, apprentice in a trade, page, squire and vengeance (Technically, "loss of a loved one" would count, but just as the original Shinn is nothing short of extremely vengeful, so will this Calradian version.)
2) Since I am admittedly not a very good player, this AAR will be more about storytelling and drama than action and strategy.
3) Mod used: Diplomacy 4.1.

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Preface​

The story of Shinn Asuka was one filled with intrigue and excitement – and to some, a success story of how a boy who had lost his entire family in the crossfire of war could arise into one of the leading world-changing figures of the Second Bloody Valentine War that shaped the future of the Earth Sphere in the later years of the Cosmic Era.

This is, however, not his story as we know it. This is the story of another Shinn Asuka from another parallel universe by the name of Calradia. This Shinn Asuka, as fate would have it, possessed mostly everything the original had – looks (Author’s Note: As much as the admittedly limited M&B character creation allows, anyway), personality, even a family that fell prey to the vagaries of war and an innate ability that made him special among his peers. Even the people whom he would meet and the events that would drive his life and, by extension, that of Calradia as a whole forth, would strangely mirror that of the original. One key difference, however, created an irreconcilable schism between the two: Instead of piloting a Mobile Suit, this Shinn Asuka made himself at home on the saddle of a horse, and instead of fighting in space for the PLANTs, it is the plains of Calradia that he fought on and for.

Whether this Shinn Asuka of the Calradian plains would achieve the same degree of success or failure as the Shinn Asuka of the Cosmic Era, only time and fate would tell.

Prologue: A Coordinator in Calradia​

The fresh scent of the cool morning breeze filled his lungs as Shinn Asuka stepped into the open, still sparsely populated streets of the Rhodok city of Jelkala. His face had yet to lose the sorrowful expression he had been wearing for most of his long journey there, though a strangely serene tint had set into his eyes. Perhaps it is in this new land, far away from the Kingdom of Vaegirs he had left behind, that he could find the peace he had long forgotten.

For all he knew, he was not born from Calradian parents. In fact, his parents never told him where he was originally from, except for that his original homeland lay far away beyond the oceans and the reach of even the fastest of Rhodok merchant ships. He may or may not have heard the name of “Orb Union” mentioned in passing in regard to that unknown homeland, he wasn’t very certain. For what reason they were forced to leave, he was equally blurry about.

Either way, he was only aware of one thing since he first opened his eyes to the world – he and his little were born Vaegir. They played with their Vaegir neighbours, they adopted the Vaegir way of life, they respected the authorities of and paid tithes to their Vaegir overlords, and most of all, they expected the Vaegir lords and kings to protect them as per their duties as the masters of these lands. That last one, however, was perhaps the biggest mistake his parents and himself had ever made.

A couple of years ago, in an event known as the June 15 Massacre, a Swadian army led by Count Klargus raided the village of Tadsamesh, his family’s residence. The Vaegir marshall, Boyar Nelag, arrived with a large army and soundly defeated the Swadians on the open field, captured the Count himself and paraded him on the streets of Reyvadin before, as per custom, ransoming him off for a handsome sum of denars – the usual fare in Calradian warfare. For Shinn’s family though, the Boyar’s resounding victory meant little. For in the hours that the Boyar delayed his action to gather more men, his family had fallen prey to the Swadian swords, crossbows and morningstars, along with pretty much everyone he had known.

The young man glanced his traveler’s bag. Inside it, he could feel the smooth edge of a little notebook nestled snugly beside the various personal belongings he dragged along with him. He had been carrying this notebook along with him for all those years now, if only because it was the only memento he had of his sister and his family. Ironically, it would also be the book that, when she was alive, she would least want him to read – a girl’s diary and all the secrets it was supposed to conceal.

“Mayu…”

He murmured softly in the belief that he was alone, clutching his bag tightly. If the rest of the caravan he tagged along the other day knew what sort of soft-hearted little bastard he was, there was no way he could live it down, let alone quickly finding a job in town as a soldier.

That’s right, a soldier. He had been stuck with that profession ever since he fled his old village, battered, bloodied and penniless. He could have, and would have preferred to die that day with his family had his father’s last words not specifically told him to live with dignity. He was a “coordinator”, or so his father said, someone deeply special. How true that last desperate claim was he might as well never know, but he did know one thing – he seemed to be able to pick up skills and proficiencies far, far quicker than any other human he had met. That ability had many implications, one of which being his uncanny ability to benefit from slashing, hacking, stabbing, mauling or otherwise horribly brutalize another human being.

Which explained why for the last few years, he had been making his living tagging along another mercenary company, taking care of the baggage sans logistics and fighting where he had to. Still, if the captain’s words were any indication, he did exceptionally well for a child soldier, a rarity even in the chaotic lands of Calradia.

For a while he stood there, doing naught but closing his eyes and clutching his bag, still assuming he was perfectly alone. How wrong he was with that innocent assumption, for he was soon disrupted by the distinct, threatening sound of a blade sliding from the scabbard. In an instant, his eyes flared up, his irises turning into an inhuman, pupilless red orb. He’s been known to respond to extreme danger in that way, and when that happened…

The bandit who chose to jump him that morning never learnt his mistake until it was too late. Five seconds later, he was but a lifeless husk with a skull cleaved in twain.

Barely had Shinn sheathed his blade when he heard more sounds of approaching footsteps. Thankfully, this time he was met with a familiar face – the very same merchant who had escorted the caravan the last evening. With just a mild admonishment for his rather admittedly reckless leaving the safety of the shelter before sunrise, the merchant signalled him to follow him to his homestead. Once there, the man cautiously closed the door, lowered his voice and made him an offer.

For a few minutes the young man stood quietly, making no gesture or audible sound. Bandits and brigands creeping into a city flying the banners of a king – another sign that the lords and masters of this land were negligent of their own people and subjects. Perhaps the king of Rhodok was no different than the Vaegir king that for all those years he had learnt to hate with a burning passion. And yet the young adventurer still felt hesitant to take any independent action. After all, until very recently he had only been used to following orders from a mercenary captain rather than making his own decision, and right until this point he was still prepared to work under the leadership of someone else. To say this is a grave decision was a turning point in his life was no understatement.

“Very well,” he finally said. “I will do it.”

To his surprise, the merchant handed him a small purse full of denars, a welcome addition to his fledging treasury. After all, the reasoning went, how was he going to recruit men to fight for his cause without some coins for basic equipment and compensation?

Leaving the merchant’s house, Shinn decided to return to Jelkala for a short while before setting out to round up recruits. If he were to fight bandits, he might as well browse the market for better equipment. His old saddle horse, Ginn, was steadfast and reliable as far as ordinary looters and recruits were all he had to fight, which might not be the case in the mission at hand.

However, hardly had he reached the market when a particular town facility caught his attention.

For the long while he had been tagging along the aforementioned mercenary company, a town’s arena was far beyond his thoughts. A quick chat with the fellow in charge of the place revealed two things: First, unlike the big fancy tourneys nobles like to host to burn their time instead of – Shinn gritted his teeth – protecting their charges, the arena melee fights are now hold on a daily basis and pretty much everyone and their grandmother can jump in if they like. And two, for beating up enough people, there is a none too shabby prize…

“Right,” he said, nodding firmly. “Count me in.”

He needed the training before setting off anyway...

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Ending notes:

1) The reason why Shinn seems like an unreasonable whiny emo bastard in this narrative is because he is canonically an unreasonable whiny emo bastard as any watcher of SEED Destiny can vouch. I am merely trying to recreate what I can, up to and including remaking the my-family-is-dead-because-my-king-cannot-protect-them angst from SEED Destiny into a Calradic setting.

2) Anime and the M&B character face generation does not mix well. As a result, my attempt to recreate the stereotypical anime sharp chin, large eyes, tiny noses and small cheeks instead makes the character look hideous when compared with, say, King Floris of Holland. My only consolation is that his profile shot in the character page is pretty awesome if I have to say so myself.

3) It is habitual for me to send every single of my starting characters into the arena for some riskless training. Expect Shinn to stay in the arena until he gains another level or two before he sets off for kidnappers-a-hunting.

With that in mind, enjoy!

 

[Satrab]

It has some potential, but. BUT. Couldn't you just skip the merchant part?

 

[MatthaisRagnarsson]

You have an interesting concept, here.

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

@ Satrab: I wish I could, but I can't. As I said, this AAR is more about character development and storytelling than straight-up-and-action gameplay, and the opening sequence provides excellent storytelling opportunities.

IMO as far as writing goes, take care of the little things and the bigger events will take care of themselves.

@ Mathais: Thanks. I'd do my best.

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

Alright, since I am suddenly extremely productive today, here's the first chapter proper. Actually, it might as well be the continuation of the prologue, but whatever goes, goes.

Chapter 1: The Cleansing of Jelkala​

A few hours later, our hero left the arena with a plethora of light bruises all over his body. Being whipped around with wooden weapons multiple times in the process of otherwise doing the same to a dozen odd people, painful as it sounded, brought about multiple benefits, least of all being a generous amount of prize money for him to outfit himself with a plain footman’s helmet. Ironic as it sounded, that was the same kind of helmet he left behind back in his mercenary company before setting out for Jelkala a few weeks ago. As it happened, he had learnt firsthand that it would not look pretty for him or anyone for that matter should their bare head find the urge to make friends with a stray arrow, bolt or simply a nordland war axe.

When the basic outfitting was done, it was time for him to set off for, as the merchant suggested, the surrounding villages. The Rhodok hills and its folks, as he was told, was not a merciful place for horses, and it showed. It took him a few hours on the winding roads to reach the village of Burglen, where two men, either out of poverty or an aspiration to greater deeds – maybe a little bit of both, if what he recollected from his old life was of any indication – decided to throw their lives on his lot in exchange for a tiny sum of money. Perhaps, the thought occurred to him, that he was special in these lands in the sense that he would not readily confer his life to anyone for a couple denars.

Almost immediately after these men joined him, they were engaged by a small group of looters loitering around the village with the same numbers. The result was a foregone conclusion, since his small band had a horse, a crossbow and most of all, a “coordinator” while their opponent had none of the luxury. The danger they pose was so slight, his eyes remained perfectly normal through and through.

Another short trek to the village of Ruldi to the northwest later, three more young lads eager to leave their decrepit hellhole joined his ranks. That would be quite enough for the mission that the merchant gave him, but in the name of cautiousness, he decided to gather a bit more. He was lucky in his next trip down to the far south of the continent. In Ibdeles, a whole bunch of five men, a group of childhood friends and neighbours decided to throw down their picks and pick up their spears.

All along the rugged path, as he listened to their bravadoes of how they would put a spear through a Swadian count’s charger and a bolt from one side of his helmet to the other, he couldn’t help but cringe. Obviously these young men thought that war is but an exciting game. Which it might as well be to them, for another group of six looters fell to their combined arms on the way back to Jelkala while they took but a couple of scratches.

Shinn’s meagre band of men returned to Jelkala to learn that a group of kidnappers had been spotted out of town, no doubt looking for more unwitting prey. Justice was delivered swiftly and with all due extreme prejudice. The leader of the band, miraculously, survived the multiple blows his men and himself dealt, and, barely breathing and stepped upon by one of the more foolhardy recruits, revealed to him where the rest of the hostages were kept – a small cabin and cavern near Ruldi.

It was now time for some prisoner-rescuing business. The attack began at the middle of the morning, and went on flawlessly – except for the fact that one of his men died painfully, suffering from multiple stabbing and slashing wounds on his person. The thanks of the merchant’s brother, hence, rang somewhat hollow to his ears.

“You have a brother who could protect you,” Shinn said somberly. “Treasure him while you can.”

Whether or not he would heed his advice, he would never know. It was funny, if not depressing to him, that an ordinary merchant with several purses full of money could do what a “coordinator” could not – protect his younger sibling. The rest of the troops did not understand his mood. They had no reason to, he thought.

Either way, the merchant did promise him some money for the return of his brother, and some money he would claim. Which he did back in Jelkala, together with another, completely unexpected offer.

Two strands of thought dangled in his mind as he heard what the merchant had to say. For one thing, it was too unexpected and foolishly bold a move for a simple merchant, something that, even with his latest victories, he could hardly muster the confidence. For the other, he could hardly sit still and see evil like this fester. What the merchant said – in time of war, a king’s eyes wander too far away from his subjects and they suffer greatly because of that – hit too close to home for him to ignore.

“I need to think over this,” he finally said. “Won’t be long, I promise.”

Saying so, he quietly departed for the arena. Perhaps a few rounds of brawling and the victories he would have would strengthen his resolve further, he thought.

Which it did.

The money he won went to refurnishing his arms and armor. The old crossbow, for instance, was discarded in favour of a longbow. For all those years he spent in Vaegir land, he’d know more about the bow than he would the crossbow, as easy to use the latter is touted as.

Returning to the tavern, Shinn spent a couple of loose coins on a strong drink. Normally he would have been knocked out by the stuff – for all he knew, he never drank at all even in the peak of his service in the aforementioned company. Wine was reserved for the dedicated frontline fighters among the bunch, and a dedicated fighter he was not. Thankfully, the moment’s excitement kept him from passing out.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

Before he had the chance to regret his bravado, the bandit hunt had begun.

It was a brutal battle. While being in the mercenary company had emboldened himself to violence, two things were different this time than previously. First of all, he had never exactly played a pivotal role in a battle until about two days ago, being merely a trainee and supply keeper. Secondly this fight was much more up close and personal than any other he had ever been in personally before – friends and foes lay dead and wounded indiscriminately, bloodied and mutilated right before his eyes, a few of the former completely unarmed. It reminded him too much of the raid of Tadsamesh for him to think straight.

The last thing he remembered, his eyes changed again, and when it was back to its original color, under his feet a reasonably respectable pile of robbers lay cold, their skulls cleaved in twain in as brutal a manner as he could have mustered by his own hands.

What happened after that was predictable enough. Predictable and sad. For his efforts, apparently the only thing the merchant succeeded in was to incriminate the crooked captain who messed up the town. On his part, he was forced by the king of Rhodok to leave town and not mention this breach of the peace ever again.

As for Shinn himself? Apparently not being seized by a Rhodok guardsman and hung, according to the merchant, was already fortuitous enough.

“If I were you,” the merchant said sincerely, “I wouldn’t see any authority in town, looking for jobs or otherwise, until the heat dies down. Hear me out, leave this place and find work elsewhere. Believe me, Calradia has many opportunities for the determined adventurer.”

In a fit of exasperation, apparently Shinn missed out the last two sentences. His disappointment was obvious – he had came to Jelkala looking for a new beginning, and when that appears to be ruined, he didn’t know what he should do. Settle down as a commoner had been far from his mind ever since he left his old life behind all those years as a child soldier. On the other hand while ‘adventuring” is so grand a word to those who did not know what is in store for them, he knew best that venturing out there without a proper goal is akin to suicide. In other words, he was now free, and had no idea what to do with his newfound freedom.

With that in mind, he returned to his humble company with a visible sunken heart.

“Hey, what’s the matter, boss?”

A particular recruit called out to him.

“We didn’t follow you here to see you all depressed, did we?” he asked with a jolly tone as he raised a mug of cheap ale. “We seek adventure, you hear? Ad-ven-ture!”

“I understand,” he said. “But… truth be told, I have little experience leading. I’m probably just good at fighting…”

“Believe me, boss, that’s all you’d need to prosper in good old Calradia,” the recruit shook his head. “The possibilities are endless – Kick a huscarl to death? Take off a Vaegir guard’s funny cap and beat him to death with it? Bring a Swadian knight off his high horse in the literal sense? Force-feed a Khergit centaur his bow, string and all? Shove a jarid down a mameluke’s throat? Or heck, you can just go around randomly killing people who look at us funny and we’d be rich before you can say ‘I love Calradia’.”

Shinn felt slightly ill listening to the recruit’s rather graphic descriptions. Apparently, in Calradia violence is in the people’s blood, something that he would have to revel in if he were to get anything done.

“Well, if I were you I’d start small first. You know, running errands for lords and other big names in the realms, and when they heard your name – voila, you’re a noble!” he said enthusiastically. “Heck, I’d be happy if you’d remember us folks and make us your castle guards or something. Gloating bastards get paid double for doing literally nothing.”

Seeing that Shinn was staying mostly silent, the recruit continued.

“You have a goal, don’t you, boss?” he said. “Well then, let’s get it cracking then, shan’t we?”

Shinn rolled his eyes at the recruit and how impeccably his words hit the bullseye. At the bottom of his heart, he did have a burning desire to exact vengeance on those who had broken apart his happy family. That desire was, at this point, all but pointless unless he had the kind of power to exact said vengeance. Power that could only be garnered by being as strong as or even stronger than the counts and boyars of the realms. Power that could only be his through war and feats of arms and the fame that would garner, however he hated the notion of profiting through the sufferings of others.

“You’re right,” he said, his hand gripping the pommel of his rusty blade. “Let’s get going then.

For all he knew, it would be a long journey ahead of him…

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

Another chapter - I am really feeling productive lately, am I not?

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Chapter 2: Ignited
​

A glass of ale and a few hour’s worth of travelling later (not to mention paying his ragtag army’s first weekly salary), Shinn Asuka and his brethrens encountered just south of Jelkala the first enemy that outnumbered them – 11 Looters. Inhospitable as the terrain was, his longbow literally paid for itself. Not only had his men remained completely unharmed, in the rout that followed all of them managed to scrounge up enough spare equipment, money and battle experience to equip themselves with hunting crossbows. Granted, it cost him 10 denars each, but still.

“Where did you pull those from?” Shinn asked incredulously when he saw his jolly advisor pulling around a shiny crossbow, a large spiked club and a suit of green tunic that he could swear wasn’t there the previous hour.

“It’s Calradia, boss,” the recruit answered with a V-sign. “We are just so awesome, we’d know where to find all the equipment for cheap. Don’t think too hard about it.”

Shinn shrugged, choosing to not think any more about this particular matter than he needed to. Maybe that was for the better.

Literally in the next hour, the group spotted another significant band of looter 15 men strong stepping right up. This time, they seemed to have learnt the previous band’s lesson and tried to run away from his band, but with no luck.

A quick observation of the field informed the “coordinator” that his crossbowmen had better stand on one of the hills and fire away. It ended exactly as well as it is supposed to, which is to say, flawlessly.

The last few victories had emboldened Shinn and his men quite a bit. It was about time they tried their hands on tougher enemies.

“Boss, may I remind you that these mountains are absolutely brimming with professional bandits. Most of them are well armed enough to put a serious dent in even a lord’s army if they don’t know what they’re doing,” the recruit advisor reminded him. “Try not to, eh, get us killed before we’d become your castle guards, alright?”

“I won’t let you down,” Shinn answered firmly.

Since the general area around Jelkala was free from bandits and other lowlives for the moment, the fledging warband began to head up north. As soon as they crossed the bridge north of Jelkala, however, they beheld a magnificent sight. A massive professional army more than two hundred men strong marching under the green boar banner heading towards Jelkala.

“That’s our King Graveth, may the heavens bless him,” the recruit told Shinn. “Not exactly a saint I’d admit, but nobody in this land is.”

While the rest of the men were thrilled to finally get to see the king in person, something that probably would not happen everyday, Shinn had other ideas. After all, the merchant had suggested that he not get within crossbow range of the king for a while, and it might be wise to not question that. Overruling the grumbling of his men, Shinn travelled forward to the next town in the north – Veluca – looking for work, and hopefully find some more enemies to fight in the meantime.

He met with the local guildmaster the next day, and a job he did have. A job that, he might add, he did not exactly expect.

The next thing he knew, the guildmaster was looking at him as though he was some kind of witch who needed to be burnt. His eyes must have gone crazy on him again as a knee-jerk reaction.

“Excuse me,” he said awkwardly. “What were you saying again?”

The guildmaster glared at him incredulously before repeating, word by word, as though speaking to a mentally challenged adult child.

“Wine. Tavern. Dhirim. You get it there, you get paid. Understood?”

Now the young man understood why he had reacted the way he did. That quest meant, among others, travelling deep into the Swadian heartland, mingle with Swadian folks and most of all, earning coins from those folks. The same folks that, he might add, were primarily responsible for wrecking his family and making him what he was. If he were to do so, he would not guarantee the life of the unfortunate Swadians who stand in front of him…

“Hey, I don’t have all day. Either you do it, or you don’t.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Shinn rolled his eyes blankly after he had uttered those words. What had gotten over him? He thought he was on a bout of detachment with reality, until he saw the guildmaster’s porters and his fellow adventuring men loading the crates of wine onto their baggage.

“Oh… oh no…”

Still, there was little he could do. This was the first time he was given a job as a freelance adventurer, and screwing it up practically meant that nobody would ever give him a job again.

“Alright then,” he told himself and any of his soldiers around him. “I guess… we are taking a detour to Dhirim.”

“Note to self: Keep my sword glued in my scabbard in town.”

The road from Veluca to Dhirim was, thankfully, free of brigands for the time being. A couple of Rhodok lords and a particular Swadian one were parading the open plain, scaring off any lowlives who might come their way. The Swadian lord in particular captured his attention.

Twenty men-at-arms, he thought to himself. As much as he wanted to slaughter every single one of those mailed tabard-wearing, warhorse-riding bastards right then and there, he was not crazy enough to even think that it was possible given his ragtag bunch.

Since the town of Uxkhal was just a short distance away and since his men were eager to go see the place – a notion he could not really blame, since just a couple days before they were but simple farmhands who had seen little of the world – Shinn took a detour. It was a decision he did not have to regret, however, for in the tavern he met up with a particularly verbose traveller with a penchant for overly flowery turn of phrases.

Wading through his admittedly odd speech pattern, he understood, if only so barely that this particular figure – whose name was Jeremus apparently – was a travelling surgeon being persecuted by a patient for a case that went awry.

“So let me get this straight,” Shinn said. “A parent asked your help in their desire to save their beloved one. You let them down and killed the boy. If I were them, I… don’t think I’d do any different.”

Part of him was urging Shinn to say “I’d kill you brutally on the spot”, but he held back that exceedingly rude comment. Surprisingly, the “doctor” responded rather calmly to that provocation.

“Well, I do understand that,” the doctor said. “Unfortunately I am in no position to defend myself and resort my fate to the whims of the juries owing to the rampant ignorance of the common folks. So here’s my proposal – I follow you out of town and save my own skin, and you get the service of a natural philosopher and surgeon. We both benefits from this. Do we have a deal?”

Five minutes later, Shinn exited the tavern with the “surgeon” tagging behind him. He didn’t know exactly what got over his mind. Perhaps it was his tendency to protect people who were downtrodden and caught in a pinch. Or maybe he was really taken over by the quack doctor’s words. Either way, the company welcomed a new member, for better or worse.

Their road to Dhirim was not as uneventful as from Veluca to Uxkhal. On their way, their little group stopped by the village of Nomar to find another atrocity taking place.

One again his mind went blurry. It was only half an hour later, when they were well on their way to Dhirim that Shinn regained consciousness. If his men’s words were to be trusted, he was walking towards the village with his swords primed at the Rhodok raiders, his eyes flaring red. If they hadn’t realized what he was up to and dragged him with them kicking, he’d have gotten all of them killed, or worse.

“Those villagers…” he murmured as he returned to consciousness. His eyes were welling with tears, still largely unaware of the surrounding.

“Well, what do you know, boss,” the recruit advisor said, somewhat and rightfully annoyed. “This is Calradia, for heavens’ sake. Lords do what they can, and we peasants suffer what we must.”

Shinn stayed silent, looking down at the ground.

“I… I want to protect them…” he finally murmured.

The young “coordinator” was not sure if he even understood his own line of thought. Was he not supposed to see the Swadians as his sworn enemies? 

“And that’s why you’d want to be a noble, boss,” the recruit said, patting him on the shoulder nonchalantly. “A noble chooses, a peasant obeys, or so the saying goes.”

The journey from Nomar to Dhirim was much less chatty than usual. Shinn’s somber mood was contagious, and in due time the whole war party was cloaked in silence. Which was perfect in a way in hindsight – the surrounding countryside might or might not have been plagued by forest bandit parties which might or might not have been stronger than his own party. Either way, Shinn got to Dhirim the next day more or less without a hitch. The delivery was equally smooth, for that matter, and the coins were more or less worth the effort.

Just after he had finished the delivery, however, his eyes set upon a particular young woman apparently loitering around in the tavern’s lounge.

Almost at once his eyes rolled blankly as he was overcome by a feeling of apparent déjà vu. He could swear he had met this girl – or someone who looked eerily similar for that matter – somewhere. Exactly where or how that happened, however, he did not remember. It could be a passing person in a random village, or perhaps a particular sister in his old company. Or maybe, just maybe, someone in a past life or an alternative universe him, he couldn’t know. Either way, her very presence filled him with the urge to protect her from harm’s way.

He had ample opportunity to do so. First of all, this girl was nothing short of being awfully naïve for someone having grown up in Calradia. Secondly, she was armed with but a short dagger, enough to keep away coveting would-be rapists but was more than assuredly useless against all the other dangers that the realms had to offer to a lone wandering girl.

“Come with me,” he said, plainly and simply, a statement to which she was all too happy to comply. After all, if he was to take her words at face value, she was in it just for the adventuring.

After paying for her drink like the gentleman he was, Shinn took the girl – Ymira was her name, or so she said – back to his company. His men’s covetous stares and whistles at the girl were immediately put down by the young coordinator’s death glare.

The next thing he did was to see the local authority for a job. The very sight of the Swadian city guards disgusted him, but from his last assignment he’d learnt all too well that the guild masters’ money were good money all along. And if he wanted to rise to the top and become a noble, he’d need every denar that came his way.

The next assignment, however, seemed to be much more difficult than anything that had come his way before. He was to escort a caravan to Bariyye. That was deep into Sarranid territories, last time he checked. He knew even less about the southern desert than he did about anything that wasn’t Vaegir, which was to say, none at all. Part of him wanted to turn down the assignment, but he got over it. He would very much welcome the experience and the money it would bring… all for the goal he had in mind.

But first off, he needed something to boost his courage. And there was only one way he knew of to do so…

A few hours, a couple dozen bruises and many, many swings of his wooden blades and staffs later…

If that didn’t give him more courage at this point, he didn’t know what would. A round of ale thereafter, he and his band of men found themselves hitting the road, a merchant caravan following them closely behind...

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Ending notes:

1) I just realized that Ymira is the NPC companion closest in background and personality to SEED Destiny's Stella Loussier, whose wiki page I provided above. This has multiple interesting implications 

2) I am borrowing a bit from Kira Yamato's "I want to protect everyone" book in Shinn's reaction in this chapter and hope it is still in-character.

3) The primary goal at this point is to keep as many of the beginning Rhodok recruits alive as possible. If they do get to Sharpshooter status, though, they'd be huge assets to Shinn's army regardless of how his politics turn out.

 

[Cleomenes]

It has some potential, but. BUT. Couldn't you just skip the merchant part?

The Merchant part is always fun 

 

[Satrab]

By meaning skip the merchant part, I meant to refuse to help him. It's kinda boring to read an AAR with same beginning. Refusing always "spices" things up a bit. But good AAR anyway. Keep 'em coming  .

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

Well, while I agree with the "spicing" up part, if I were going by canon personality it is rather OOC for Shinn Asuka to turn down the offer. For one thing, the theme of Gundam SEED and SEED Destiny is pretty heavy on the "protect those close to you and help others protect those close to them" part. For the other, we are talking about a guy who is eternally plagued by his inability to save his sister and who carries her cellphone/diary around on his person several years after he lost his family. There is no way he'd see someone going "my brother is kidnapped!" and go "Not my business", if you catch my drift. 

Either way, thanks for the comments! I'd be sure to update ASAP.

 

[Satrab]

Ah! You character can't refuse such offers? Now I understand . The sooner chapter comes, the better. Though no pressure.

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

You ask for a chapter, you get one!

----

Chapter 3: To Protect Everyone​

The way to Bariyye was longer a distance than any other treks Shinn had taken before without rest. For two long days and nights his crossbow company and the caravan navigated the open steppe and the treacherous desert sand, dodging bandits and other lowlives as they trekked. That mostly his entire company was on foot meant that, if they were to meet some mounted bandits – which more or less infested these parts according to his men - their lives would be as good as forfeit.

On the way, the company stopped shortly outside the village of Amashke to see it in flame and ruins.

“Nothing to see here, boss,” reminded his Rhodok recruit advisor. “You don’t become a noble by moping around at every single village that happened to have been, uh, ‘visited’ by a lord with torches and swords, do you?”

Shinn nodded, although anyone with half an eye could see that his jaws were clenched shut, as were his hands balled into a firm fist.

Thankfully, the party ran into no further problem right until the gates of Bariyye. 250 denars well earnt, as well as some much-needed experience for himself and his companions to prepare for the days to come.

While they could have stayed looking for another job, the close brush with mounted bandits told him that they would be better off bailing out and making a run for the Rhodok hills as soon as possible. That, and the fact that Ymira apparently was no big fan of the desert climes.

Before that, however, he had another business he wanted to take care of.

This business, by now, basically ended as well as he thought it should.

The way back was much more perilous – without the merchant caravan to provide support, his small band was much less able to outrun the bandits, and it was only owing to the cover of the night and sheer luck that he got to the castle of Durrin unmolested.

Seeing his plight, a castle guard was kind enough to drop a tip.

“Kid, have you got any pathfinder around?” he said. “If you don’t, expect to be brutally murdered on the desert sands. I’m not even kidding”

“Um,” Ymira said. “I could do that… I think.”

She then demonstrated her skills over the next few miles, showing that yes, she had picked up that trick some time during the last few days without him knowing it.

“How did you do that?” Shinn asked, completely taken over by surprise.

“Did I not tell you,” she answered, giggling, “that I learn new stuffs extremely quickly?”

Either way, with the new speedbump, the road became that much easier to travel. They outran two desert bandit parties and swerved around a third before arriving at Durquba later that day, where, as per normal, our hero indulged himself in what had now become a bit of a lucrative pastime activity.

Two days and one close brush with a group of Khergit deserters later, the latter was only chased away by the presence of a particular turban-wearing noble who happened to frequent that specific area, the ragtag company finally saw within sigh the earthen walls of the great city of Shariz.

“Well, just a short march to the north is Rhodok territory,” his advisor told him with a broad smile on his face, not at all concealing his happiness for simply having survived the journey. “Next time, boss, remember not to take us into the desert again. Not without heavy firepower, that is.”

“Duly noted.”

Shinn answered, himself sighing in relief. Had they encountered a bandit party, he might as well have once again failed the trust others had put in him, something that, at least at this point, would do terrible, terrible things to his sanity.

On the way to Veluca, three things happened to his party. The first and least important was the encounter with two bands of looters, both shot to ribbons by himself and his recruits, most of whom had, by now, developed quite a bit of skill with their crossbows. The second is that his measly band of men had now grown quite well, nearly doubling its original number thanks to some eager recruits from Saren and Sarimish.

“From one end of the gorramn Sarranid desert to the other, dodging a thousand bandit parties in the meantime, and saving a caravan full of trade goods from imminent destruction – that’s our boss,” said his advisor to the crowd of villagers at the village centers. “Now lads, who wants to join? Limited offer only!”

While he could not care less about the undeserved flatteries, he did rejoice at the seven men who joined him on the spot without question more or less owing to that little advertisement.

The last event was a brush with yet another Rhodok lord doing the dirty in Sarranid lands.

Maybe the encounter with all sort of adventures in the past week and the death and agony it had brought around him had toughened him somewhat, or maybe he had finally learnt that he was not going to help anyone in the state he was. Either way, this time Shinn passed the scene without saying a word.

After staying for a couple of hours in Veluca for basic supplies shopping – and hearing Ymira’s great praise for the city at the meantime, the company departed for the town’s hinterland. The original mission was to, according to his peasant advisor, gather more sympathizers and recruits. However, a few events totally derailed that plan.

Just a short trek from Veluca, the group found yet another village being torched, this time a Rhodok one – in fact, the very village they were planning to gather men in. Apparently the Swadians had responded to the last Rhodok raids in full force.

Whether or not Shinn had planned to jump in and knock himself out on a random Swadian morningstar this time, his companions were not going to take the risk. The moment they saw his eyes starting to look funny, they very nearly literally roped him, man and horse alike, and pulled him the other way by force.

The second event, however, was far more harmful to the “coordinator”’s sanity.

The next morning, on their way to the southwestern hinterland untouched by the current war with the Swadians, the group chanced upon a mountain bandit camp and was caught in battle against one of their raiding parties roughly their size. The battle went on the normal way – Shinn placed his crossbows on top of the closest hill and rained death on the incoming enemies.

However, he made a mistake.

The positioning of his men too far away from the ledge of the steep hill meant that they were unable to open fire after the bandits got close to the foothill. The shielded bandits managed to get close to his archer line relatively untouched, and that was when things started to be messy. Shinn tried to ride back to his lines too late – one javelin and one downward falchion swipe later, he saw two of his men falling down. One of whom, he could just make out in the heat of the moment, was the peasant recruit whose wisdom he was relying on over the past week.

The next thing his surviving men as well as his enemies saw was something akin to a prismatic flash unlike anything they had seen before from the general direction of their boss.

Suffice to say the remaining enemies, even though they were on the verge of overpowering his line just a second before, now no longer stood a chance and began to fall left and right. As for Shinn himself, he escaped the battle without a single scratch.

“D… Demon!”

That was the last mountain bandit’s last word as Shinn’s blade ran him through in cold blood.

As his companions watched in awe, Shinn returned to them, his eyes still bearing his trademark weird color scheme. Unlike the last times, however, this time he seemed to be more or less in full control of himself, his emotions and everything in between. On the ground where the frontline of the battle used to be, the two casualties of war lay, bloodied and mutilated. Shinn could notice the recently recruited “doctor” crouched next to them, breaking out his medical equipment and furiously trying to bind their wounds. When he saw his captain returning, the doctor briefly turned back to acknowledge his presence, before returning to work.

“How are they faring?” Shinn asked, his voice powerful yet hollow.

“Well, the good news is one of them is going to live. The bruises and cuts are quite horrid, but he shall survive,” Jeremus said as he continued working. “The bad news is, the other is best buried as soon as possible before his carcass begins to decompose.”

He stood up and stood aside for the captain to check out his more unfortunate follower.

“Not even the god of medicines and the medical practice, I assure you, captain, can save a man whole brain had been thoroughly mangled by a javelin of this size,” he said, pointing to the grievous javelin wound on the main’s skull, practically piercing it from one end to the other.

Shinn looked at the dead body, part of him sighing of relief as he registered the dead man’s face. It was not his peasant advisor who had met his untimely end, but rather one of his fellow villagers. Which, while still terrible, was still a better end – to his sanity at the very least – than to see his close advisor biting the dust then and there.

“Bury him well,” he ordered, his voice deeply lowered.

“And you, doctor,” he said to Jeremus, “you had better keep him alive.”

He gestured towards his unconscious advisor.

“Or you are going to find yourself in the dungeons of Uxkhal before you can wipe your hands clean of blood.”

The way Shinn glared at the doctor with those eyes of his, one would expect the doctor to be frightened, or at the very least offended. He was neither.

“I’d take that as a challenge,” Jeremus said with a distinct smirk of a professional having an extremely firm grasp on his profession. “As long as you give me full authority to treat my patients as my natural philosophy dictates, absolutely, may I repeat, absolutely nothing can ever complicate.”

It was not until later that day that his stimulation finally died down. That night, he wandered a good distance from the camp, bringing with him nothing more than his arms and his late sister’s diary.

“I… I must be stronger,” he said, gazing at the sky. “Stronger, faster, smarter… so that I can protect everyone…”

That was as good, to him, as a knight’s oath of honor. And for that purpose, there was much he needed to do. Earlier the next morning, he assembled his remaining men.

“Now we have a mission,” he said with all due resolution. “We rid these mountains of the lowlives that plague it, such that people… our friends won’t have to die any longer!”

His passionate and heartfelt speech was, unfortunately, cut short by the sound of two crutches and some coughing.

“What are you talking about, boss?”

His advisor had apparently wandered from his tent to attend the meeting. Jeremus could be many things, but a quack he was not – the wounded soldier was standing, albeit heavily bandaged and in no shape to fight, whatever danger to his life having been well dispersed.

“This is Calradia,” he repeated. “Crap happens. Not like you can do anything to permanently make things better, you know.”

He took a short pause as he glanced across his teammates.

“But we as soldiers welcome your resolve,” he said. “You know, boss, for us lots we only know this simple fact: the more fighting the more loot. The more loot the more we have to pawn off for denars. And the more denars, well, that’s all what we would need to be happy in these hard times. Right mates?”

A resolute “Oh yeah!” from the crowd made Shinn cringe. At the same time, though, that attitude reinforced his resolve. After all, he was not going to be alone in his quest.

Later that day the crew moved south to Epeshe, where they restocked their supplies and got another two men to join the company with their boards and pitchforks.

Over the next three days they fought a series of battles against smaller groups of mountain bandits and brigands and emerged victorious with barely any casualties. They even caught a group of bandits terrorizing the local peasant folks.

As per normal, they were put to the blade like any other scum, a victory that, among the benefit of loots, ensured that the group would now be looked upon a bit more favorably by a Rhodoks.

Then several days later came a rather unfavourable night battle. His party was caught by an army of mountain bandits of the same number as their own party on a battlefield cut in half by a craggy stream.

The combination of the night, the rugged terrain and the large number of bandits with shields had heavily impaired his firing squad’s capability. As a result, once again the bandits reached his line and did some serious damage. Both Ymira and Jeremus were knocked out, as were five of his recruits, including one among the original score, killed and wounded. In the melee that followed, his faithful Ginn fell dead owing to a solid blow on the cranium from a flanged mace.

And then the battle turned out exactly like the last one – the last image to course through the last bandit’s mind was that of a pupil-less, blood-red pair of eyes staring down at him as a blade – rusty as it was – cleaved his skull in twain. This time, unlike the last time, Shinn did not escape unscathed, if the deep gashes on his forearm and shoulder was of any indication. Unfortunately, this time Jeremus was not there to heal him up quickly.

And so, despite being victorious, the damage the party took forced them to withdraw to Veluca. Said damage and the fact that the area was still crawling with bandits meant that Shinn could hardly afford to mope around like he should, given the group's losses.

The party spent the next day in Veluca, resting in one of its various inns. In the meantime, Shinn also bought himself a replacement to his old mobile suit horse.

“I’ll name it… BuCue.”

If anything, the last battles proved even further to the coordinator company captain that getting stronger was a must to even survive, much less saving and salvaging others…

----

End of chapter note:

Regarding Shinn's "SEED mode": In canon, what the SEED factor does is that it basically greatly increases the coordinator's spatial awareness, analytical skills, reflex and pretty much every other mental aspect, and is triggered whenever the aforementioned coordinator feels a strong urge to smite his foes and protect his friends. Yes it is as much a gamebreaker and an "I win" button as it sounds. In M&B stat system terms, this means a character - for instance, Count Laruqen - suddenly gains +200 points in all proficiencies, + 10 to PS, PT and PD and + 20 to both strength and dexterity as soon as half his men dies.

Since I don't want to use cheats, the only way I, as a player, can emulate this effect meaningfully in a M&B gameplay perspective is by engaging in much more aggressively in battle (charging archers/javelineers and do other exceptionally risky things that normally I wouldn't do as a player) as soon as Shinn loses a couple of his men. This can be either a godsend or a recipe for disaster, we'll see.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

[Satrab]

Nice. Just one thing. Either too much pictures, or too less text. Dunno this chapter was lacking somehow. Pretty good nevertheless.

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

I think I can explain why - not many things happened in this chapter aside from character development and some drama. I tend to overly detail a lot of things, a tendency which may be either a blessing or a curse.

Hopefully the next chapter would speed up a bit, at least as far as pacing goes. Please bear with me.

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

More updates! Let's hope this one is better than the last, shall we? 

----

Chapter 4: A Land of Eternal War​

The next few days went quite smoothly. After recuperating for a short while in Veluca, the party picked up a small complement of men from Chaeza and Fedner and fought off several bandit parties.

After defeating one particular Swadian deserter party, one of the original soldiers he recruited on the very first day went around in the camp parading his newest gears – a suit of green arena tunic over mail, a kettle hat and a solid, metal-reinforced siege crossbow. Which were, admittedly, better than what Shinn had for himself at the moment.

“Told you boss,” his advisor, now having recovered from so many wounds, remarked. “We know how to get good stuffs.”

The group then headed to Yalen, where Jeremus and Ymira took turn selling off all the spare equipment the party had gathered in the last few battles. In the meantime, Shinn decided to visit the tavern himself. In the end, it was a worthy endeavour, for sitting a fair distance from the counter was a single peasant, dressed in ragged clothing, looking apparently out of breath and bearing a multitude of bruises on his person. No doubt he had just escaped a horrible situation with barely his life. Upon seeing Shinn approaching with his sword, bow and shield in tow, the peasant shuffled towards him clumsily, his eyes flaring up with the kind of hope of a drowning man finding a long pole to cling to.

“Good sir, do you… do you particularly have a second?”

“Yes, I do,” Shinn answered. “Are you alright? You don’t look particularly healthy…”

The peasant looked around, as though watching out for ears in the wall, before lowering his voice.

“I… we need help, sir.”

On reflex Shinn reached out for his purse. Surely this was a beggar in need of some money. But before he could do that, the peasant had began speaking. His situation, indeed, was dire.

Shin’s response for something that hit so close to home was exactly what he was now expected to.

“Tell me where this village is,” he growled.

Within ten minutes, his company, who had hoped they’d gotten a break, were assembled and headed up north to the village of Istiniar. After a long trek over the hills that divided the Rhodok heartland from its outskirt provinces, they arrived at the fields outside the village center just shy of midnight.

It was a quick battle, and far less dangerous than the last few fights. The bandits were wiped out at the cost of a small number of wounded villagers and one of his veterans. The villagers, being the hearty and grateful people they were, pulled Shinn to their warehouse and quite sincerely told him to take what he wanted to as payment.

“Don’t think much about it,” he said, shaking his head. “Doing what I can to protect people who need to be protected is all I need. Besides, don’t you have families to feed yourselves?”

Unfortunately, once again Jeremus demonstrated his lackluster skills as a fighter, receiving a solid blow on the shoulder that knocked him face-first on the ground and stayed there until the battle was over. At which point a couple of recruits picked him up and presented him to their boss. Shinn cringed at the poor intellectual’s shape.

“From the next battle onwards,” he said. “You’re sticking behind the men. This order is final.”

The doctor groaned as Ymira applied some of his salve to his injuries. Talking about having a taste of his own medicine. Thankfully, the girl possessed some skills with herbs and salves and the likes, so for the moment Jeremus could rest easy on the march.

After several battles around Yalen’s hinterland, each more successful than the rest and seemingly bled the local bandits dry, the party headed east to look for more bandits. As they approached Veluca for restock, however, they found two Rhodok lords and their respective – admittedly humble – war parties running for the hills as fast as they humanly could. The reason was quite obvious as they moved closer to Veluca: The road leading into the city were blocked with a large quantity of siege equipment of all sorts as many hundred men bearing the orange banner camped literally at the city’s gate.

While the siege armies would let independent travellers come and go quite freely, caravans bearing the green banner were attacked – and slaughtered – on sight.

“Why, those Swadian bastards…” Shinn growled, his gloved hands balling into a fist.

“No need to sweat, really, Captain,” Jeremus remarked, looking quite cool, as were Ymira, whose family apparently had a business in town.

“As far as I know, sir,” Ymira said, “Veluca has enough crossbows and glaives around to whack any and every invader upside their head until they run back to the North!”

“Aren’t you worried at all?” Shinn rolled his eyes at the girl.

“Why should I?” she said, shrugging. “My old man’s business is unaligned either way – it’s not like any lord would attack a neutral caravan when they know that us neutral firmowners would be the first to pay them taxes if the city becomes theirs.”

“Also, if you seriously think that an army consisting of this many lord will stick around until the end to even assault the wall at all, boss,” his peasant-advisor-turned Rhodok-Sharpshooter said, flailing around his siege crossbow for emphasis, “then you’re, no offense, pretty naïve as to Calradian business. Our respectable nobles are, for one reason or another, pretty lacking when it comes to the basic sense of cooperation. Just wait and see.”

Grunting in frustration, Shinn had no choice but to follow his subordinates’ reasoning. The army quietly withdrew from the walls of Veluca before the huge Swadian army realized a twinkling of their intention to help the defenders.

The next week or so was quite uneventful. Aside from a number of battles along the Veluca-Yalen roads, one of which were joined with by a Rhodok lord and his elite army,

nothing interesting happened.

Some time in that week Shinn heard in passing that the Rhodoks launched their own siege against the Swadian capital of Praven. Both that siege and the aforementioned one on Veluca were dispersed before the walls were even stormed, some good news as far as civilians were concerned. And shortly afterwards, both nations unceremoniously declared peace.

“Seriously?” Shinn rolled his eyes when one of his men brought him the news. “After all the villages they’ve raided of one another, all the people who have died, all the pain and sufferings… would they just call off the whole business just like that?”

“Calradia, boss,” laughed his sharpshooter advisor. “What else did you expect? Here war is almost like a profitable game – when it stops being profitable, people stops fighting and brings it to another front where it’s more profitable.” 

“A… game? They think war is a game?”

Shinn’s facial expression was particularly telling of what he was currently feeling.

“Well, maybe a game is not an accurate word, boss,” the soldier corrected himself upon seeing his boss’ fearsome visage. “More like a business that mints denars in and of itself.”

Which was even worse. For all the sharpshooter knew, Shinn was absolutely fuming, to the point that Jeremus had to chime in.

“Uh, captain,” he said. “Getting incensed over any injustice in particular isn’t beneficial to your cardiac health at all. Every doctor with a modicum of skills could tell you that much.”

It took a while before Shinn could calm himself down enough to speak coherently, and even then, his expression was anything but reasonable.

“If this continues, our efforts to rid the lands of banditry and brigands would go completely to waste,” he growled. “There must be something we can do to stop this. There must be.”

Completely unexpectedly, Jeremus then glared at Shinn’s eyes with all due curiosity of a medical professional.

“Hmm… you do seem to be in need of some change of air, Captain,” he said. “It’s better for your mental health. May I suggest going up north?”

“Up north?” Shinn repeated, caught completely by surprise at the doctor’s apparent non sequitur. “But… but that is Swadian country!”

“Well, now that we are at peace, I doubt the men would have any problems with staying for extended periods in the Swadian climes,” he said.

Seeing that Shinn had no answer for himself, the doctor went on.

“Besides, knowing that you want to save as many people as you can from, well, Calradia itself,” he said triumphantly. “May I remind you that for every peasant you manage to save by excessively patrolling these climes, about a dozen are being clobbered senseless on the other side of the world. It’s best to have some… variation, am I right?”

The next thing the rest of the company knew, they were already heading up north. Suffice to say at that time Shinn was at a loss for what to do next himself. After all, the teenager had never exactly been one acquainted with the task of running an army. As they headed towards Suno, the group heard some passing rumor that Count Klargus of Swadia, having just recently been defeated in battle, had withdrawn to his manor in town to gather more men.

Shinn could barely contain his rage and impulse of sneaking into town and assassinate the count, if only because of the realization that if – or rather when - he should fail, the rest of his men would most certainly die horribly. Either way, they headed to Uxkhal, fighting off a significant band of forest bandit or two in the meantime.

At Uxkhal, Shinn chanced upon another traveller loitering about the place looking for work, though his presence was much less interesting than Ymira and Jeremus’. To Shinn, his very demeanor was the pinnacle of annoyance.

“Sorry, we don’t really take kindly to nobles in my company,” he said quite frankly.

The stranger looked at Shinn from head to toe.

“Really now?” Rolf said. “I happen to be acquainted with the most celebrated art of military tactics and command, something that...”

He stared at Shinn, as though reading his mind.

“… you seem to be lacking, good company commander.”

For a second Shinn stayed silent. The ‘noble’ had a point – his company wasn’t particularly strong on the tactical side of things aside from “parking the crossbow on top of a hill and wait until everyone dies”. His other followers, on the other hand, weren’t particularly skilled with that admittedly delicate skill. Neither was he, for that matter – Shinn was a young man whose entire battle doctrine boiled down to “charge the enemies until they die”.

“Fine,” he finally said. “You’re hired…”

“… On one condition,” Shinn continued, gritting his teeth. “You don’t go flashing around your ‘noble lineage’ before my eyes. Got it?”

“Crystal,” Rolf said, smirking.

For all he knew, over the next few days Rolf had been earning his pay well. Three battles against the local forest bandit gangs outnumbering his own men they won soundly without a single casualty lay testament to the stuck-up yet talented new addition to his army. The fact remained that despite Shinn’s warnings, Rolf was reportedly found boasting loudly about his noble birth among the lesser recruits of the band on a daily basis, but with the last successes Shinn could turn a blind eye to that. 

Filling their packs with as much of the bandits’ ill-gotten equipment as they could, the company head back to Uxkhal to pawn what they could. As usual, Shinn took the time off to visit the tavern. Once again, he was met with by another lone traveller loitering about the hall.

It did not take long for Shinn to realize that he was not the only one in this wretched world who failed to protect his loved ones. Though the details were wildly different, the guilt in his eyes and Shinn’s were largely similar as the lost warrior confessed his tale.

“My apologies,” Firentis said, “for having dragged a stranger like yourself into the dredges of my sorry tale.”

“I understand,” Shinn said. “For in the end, I am a sinner too.”

He nodded at Firentis.

“No more needs to be said,” he said. “If you don’t mind, my humble company can offer you a place to stay so that you can one day repay your debt to your brother… and to Calradia as a whole.”

Whatever slight doubts that his on-the-whim admission of a fratricide into the company might have caused him was dispelled soon enough when Jeremus walked to him in person and approved of the newcomer himself. The fact that Firentis was nothing less than extremely sincere and driven in his self-indicted quest for atonement only strengthened Shinn’s faith in the man further. Perhaps until the very end, he would be the only one in this company to know – and understand – that Shinn still hung dearly to his sister’s old diary as a source of strength and determination at the end of the day.

Ore uneventful days were to pass – aside from the occasional purging the Swadian land of bandits – until a particular encounter. Shinn and his company chanced upon a battle between some members of the Manhunters and two bands of forest bandits.

“The Manhunters, eh?” Rolf said, shrugging. “Two-bit amateur crimefighters with some half-dead horses who think they are the stuffs. I assure you, captain, they are no Swadian mobile armor cavalry.”

“Help first, comment later,” Shinn ordered before rushing headlong into the fight alongside with the manhunters.

What he saw up close and personal in that fight amazed him. As ill-reputed as Rolf made them up to be, with his help the Manhunters absolutely tore the bandits apart, suffering from minimal casualties.

“Unsurprisingly so,” Rolf said after Shinn returned. “You see captain, crappy as they are cavalry is still cavalry. Even the worst cavalry can make life difficult for the best infantry.”

“Then we need some mobile armored cavalry of our own,” Shinn said hastily. “And be quick about it”

“Not so fast, good sir,” Rolf answered with a snicker. “I heard that you aren’t a big fan of both the Swadians and the Vaegirs. You know, the authorities for  heavy cavalry in these lands – even a newcomer to Calradia like myself know that much.”

“Quite right,” Firentis said. “The only alternative you have for some professional cavalry is to join up with the Khergits or the Sarranians in the south. As a guard captain I’ve been on the receiving end of a Khergit lancer wave and a Mameluke charge at least once. I can tell you right now it was as close a brush with death as any.”

Shinn cupped his chin as he considered his options, mentally kicking himself for how little he knew about Calradia despite growing up at the very center of the continent. Indeed, it was not until he was ten that he knew that there existed other countries other than Vaegir, and even so his knowledge of the Khergits and Sarranians had been restricted to “those barbaric people in the south with a funny accent who love their horses more than their mothers”.

Then again, if he remembered correctly his own parents would most usually regard their Vaegir neighbors as barbaric and uncivilized compared to their old ways from the “Orb Union”. Either way, his opinion of those two kingdoms as potential employers was merely slightly higher than his opinion of Vaegir and Swadia, which was nothing to be celebrated when he thought of it.

“Or you know, you could just run around beating the everloving deity out of brigands and rescue their prisoners. Pretty sure you can find some non-aligned young lads with a horse willing to join the gang for some bread, cheese, loot and pay.”

The way Rolf spoke, Shinn would be particularly forgiven for being deeply impressed. For all his behaviour, the ‘noble’ knew what he was talking about.

”Like these Manhunters?” Shinn repeated.

“Exactly,” Rolf said. “Pretty sure you can find even more up north. The resident Sea Raiders pull around hordes of these boys as prisoners on a daily basis.”

A keen observer could see Shinn’s eyes clouded down as soon as Rolf made a mention of the North. He was not ready to return to the snowy plains and the pine forests of the Kingdom of Vaegirs, at least not at the moment.

“We’ll talk about that later,” he finally said, concealing his eyes behind the alcove of his hair. “As for now, let’s concentrate on these lands first.”

For now, Shinn thought, he still had far too much to learn about Calradia…

----

Ending notes:

1) I am drawing a distinct analogy between Calradian cavalry and Gundam mobile suits/armors. Both are the last word in field battles, both are the key to turn a war in the favor of a particular power, and both require a lot of skills from the protagonists to use well from both a personal and tactical side of things.

2) The helmet Shinn is wearing now is likely to be his last. If he would change helmet at all, he would only switch to either a guard helmet or a better basinet with aventail. This is so as to mimic the canon Shinn's pilot helmet as seen in one of the pictures above. Similarly, in order to mimic his ZAFT Redcoat pilot uniform,

his final armor is going to be a heraldic armor bearing the reddest banner M&B has to offer.

 

[Satrab]

Dear sir, this chapter rocked the previous chapters. Hmmm... Rocked is quite a weak word...
*goes to get chilly nuts, popcorns and 5 ounces of "Sprite"*

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

Thanks. I appreciate your following, Satrab. And if everything goes as I plan, the next chapter is going to be even more eventful if my in-game progress is of any indication.

Also, while I will be sure to update even if there is just one reader, a couple more followers would be nice. Just saying. 

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

Update! Update! Update! I am on a writing roll, apparently 

----

Chapter 5: Of Kidnappers, Money and Mobile Armor​

The bounties in the land of Swadia soon grew short. For one thing, over the past fortnight he and his hardy company had likely slaughtered scores of forest and mountain bandits alike in the Swadian-Rhodok border. For the others, his fame as a professional bandit hunter was growing steadily in these land, a fact that might or might not have been scaring many roaming bandit parties into hiding. That plus the fact that Shinn had been, lately, quite intrigued with cavalry tactics drove him to an unlikely decision by the beginning of May.

“Pack your things, brothers and comrades,” he declared. “We are heading into Khergit land.”

Mostly everyone in his company were shocked. Some even tried to dissuade him from that crazy idea. After all, the crux of his company were genuine Rhodok heartland citizens, those who had seen in their lives no steeds but farm horses, and whose best skills were in proudly dismounting cavalry rather than fighting alongside with them. Still, Shinn was unfazed. Before the Rhodoks could say “Oh crap” the company were already at the border between Swadia and Khergit, a land that, until just a week ago, been a fierce battlefield.

“Ah, Rindyar Castle,” Firentis remarked as the group passed by a particular landmark. “This place had changed hands so often in the past decade that by now nobody remembers to whom it is supposed to belong to in the first place. Sure, the governor and elders might have taken on our Swadian way of life, but the folks still can’t forget the Khergit habit of extensive horse rearing.”

“You are saying that as though nationality does not matter,” Shinn replied, justifiably incredulous.

“That depends actually,” Firentis answered. “A sense of nationality is only as strong as the color of the lord whose banner flies above the castle and the village manor. As a result a person can for one day be a loyal subject fighting to the death for His Majesty King Harlaus and riding alongside the Great Khan Sanjar’s lancers and horse archers the next.”

He gazed at the castle at the distance and back at Shinn.

“It’s not like I can blame them,” he finished. “You know, that’s Calradia for us. War is permanent, peace is temporary, and people adjust their lives accordingly to preserve their own skin and their livelihood. That’s all there is to it.”

“I suppose so,” Shinn said after a short silence.

Then the teenage commander sank into a somber mood. If he were to do something to stop the meaningless wars from raging, he had to become stronger. After all, was that not what he came to the Khergit land and mingling with the Khergit folks in the first place?

With that in mind, the band stopped for a couple of days in the city of Ichamur, renowned for their thoroughbred horses and skilful horsemen.

The things that happened next, unfortunately, all but showed him how pathetic he and his little crew actually were. A clash with a band of steppe bandits larger than anything he had seen before ended up with his newly-rescued manhunters all but wiped out. While he did get some free horse from their baggage train and equipped his faithful companions with them, the next fight against a band of common mounted bandit on behest of the guildmaster of Ichamur went awry, ending up with all his companions wounded at varying degrees of severity.

The only thing he managed to achieve by going into overdrive mode was to prevent any permanent damage to his core Rhodok troops. He was going to need them in the long run, and losing even one of them would undoubtedly put him into sulking mode, something the party could not afford at that stage. Either way, the last close victories, if anything, showed Shinn that his skills in commanding cavalry in the heat of battle was abysmal, something even Rolf wasn’t able to help.

“Well, I suppose you’re a fair enough chap,” the Guildmaster told him after he returned with news of the troublesome bandits’ defeat. “Do I have another job for you – Long story short, one of my friends’ daughter just got kidnapped by a bunch of lowlives and taken to the far north…”

Shinn did not know why he actually said yes to the guildmaster’s offer. For one thing, his band was as far a state from combat worthiness as humanly possible with both the pathfinder and the medic down. And for the other, going up north – why, was that not the very thing he was against in the first place just a few days ago?

“You really should learn how to say no, boss,” his advisor remarked glumly. “There’s only that much you can do on your lonesome.”

“I… can’t just look at sufferings and atrocities and do nothing,” Shinn answered sheepishly. “Not when I can help it.”

At present, however, it was a fact that he couldn’t help, what with his party in an absolute mess. The next day was inevitably spent recuperating in town. In the meantime, as per normal our hero went to his favourite place in town for recreation and to try his luck out.

A couple of rounds and some bruises later, Shinn returned with a small purse of coins. An amount that previously would have been remarkable was now no longer significant to his party, seeing that his other activities in the past weeks – relieving bandits of their ill-gotten gains – had steadily proven to be far more lucrative. As it stands, his earnings from a few “damned good fights” as the arena master put it was not even enough to pay his men’s steadily increasing weekly wages.

“Well, look to the bright side captain,” Ymira said to him, cheerful as always despite the none too few bandages she bore on her person. “My father always told me that when the wages for your caravan guards increase, you as a merchant should be glad rather than anxious.”

“And that makes sense how?” Shinn asked back, his eyes rolling in astonishment.

“Why, because that means your caravan has grown, and so will your profits!” the girl answered, clapping her hands. “Or that’s what my father likes to tell me, at least.”

Shinn’s astonishment turned into a happy smile. Or rather, the happiest smile he could muster when so many things were going on in his head.

The day’s relaxation soon came to an end. According to what the guildmaster told him, they had exactly a fortnight to resolve the ransom issue with the bandits before they “do unspeakably terrible things” to the girl, something he clearly would not have happen as long as he could help it. By noon the next day, fully restocked and mostly recuperated thanks to Jeremus’ skills, the party left the earthen walls of Ichamur for the north.

“Well, captain, if you don’t want to go through Vaegir lands we could take the long way and…”

Ymira’s suggestion was quickly brushed aside.

“Impossible. An innocent life is at stake here,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry about me – I can live with it.”

The smile he tried to forge was most clearly fake to anyone with the least bit of perception, but his decision was final.

As the group marched towards the tundra, Shinn grew more and more silent. His expression grew tense, and as Firentis rode next to him, he saw their captain clutching his sister’s diary close to his heart with his right hand throughout the journey. The only words he spoke for the rest of the day was uttered on the rampart of the fortress of Sungetche, stationed at the mountain pass separating Khergit and Vaegir land, the place where they stopped briefly at dusk to restock fodder for their steeds.

“Everyone… I’m home.”

The march through the Vaegir country was less exciting than the group thought. After one night of restless marching, the group reached the walls of the Vaegir fortress of Curaw. Or rather, the fortress that would soon no longer be Vaegir:

“Whose armies are those?” Shinn asked, astonished at the huge quantity of axe-bearing, battle-ready men under all the various banners, each and everyone of which bore a distinct air of ferocity with them.

“Surely you jest,” Jeremus said. “Don’t you tell me the existence of the Nords has never once registered in your long-term memories, captain.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Shinn said sheepishly, partially realizing how foolish that sounded.

There was nobody he could blame for that lack of knowledge but his late old people – his parents, in their infinite wisdom, somehow decided that the best way to go about teaching young Shinn Asuka about the Calradian continent they now live in was to tell him the absolute bare minimum about the lands. Suffice to say at the time of their passing, he wasn’t even aware that the land north of Curaw existed.

“Well, here’s an advice, captain,” Firentis said, cracking a rare laughter. “Don’t go around that knowledge or lack thereof to any burly, scraggly axe-bearing woodsman up there. If you don’t want to be involved in a messy brawl involving a throwing axe or a dozen, that is.”

Either way, the Nords still allowed neutral travellers to get into town, which was a good thing. In the markets of Curaw, as much as rationing and other shortages of war had began to set in, iron was never at a shortage. Just as Shinn remembered from his father’s tale of the town of infinite iron. Ymira’s innate mercantile acumens took its full course there, and before Shinn knew what was going on, their baggage train were stuffed with as much iron they could legally get away with from the city walls.

“What kind of hostage rescue task force would allow themselves to be so… weighed down?” Shinn groaned as he stared at the various ingots of iron lining their horses’ saddle packs.

“Can’t turn down free money, captain,” Ymira laughed.

Fortunately for the group, they were not slowed down all that much, thanks to the large quantity of horses they had in the troops. They managed to outrun a large band of tundra bandits with no issues – a godsend, if Shinn were to trust his father’s tales that those rugged men were the absolute most deadly things to run around in the tundra.

Before dusk, their “free money” was realized at the city of Rivacheg. Shinn never understood why they could make such a huge profit in iron within barely a few dozen miles. Perhaps the tundra bandits patrolling the area had something to do with this pparent artificial shortage. Furthermore, Rivacheg also happened to be selling a small quantity of raw silk from a dedicated silkworm farm at an especially cheap price. Ymira was quick to grab the last carton with due haste before Shinn could wave his hands.

“Now can we go save the girl already?” he said, frustrated.

“Hold on a bit, captain,” Ymira said. “We need to properly store this thing – it just wouldn’t sell crumpled, now would it?

A very crossed and frustrated Shinn was seen storming off to the tavern in the meantime. It turned out that it was the place where he made the best discovery in the day.

“One hundred and sixty denars per person?” Shinn exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Is this, I don’t know, some sort of daylight robbery?’

“We take offense to that, good sir,” the caravan guard said, annoyed. “We have at our command some of the fastest horses in Calradia, and they need to eat too. But if you find that too pricey…”

“Hold on,” Shinn called back hastily as soon as he saw the caravan guard begin to turn his back towards him. “Did you say ‘horses’?”

“Why yes, horses,” the caravan guard answered. “Some of the best in Calradia too, if I should say so myself.”

“Sold,” Shinn nodded, handing over a purse of money on the spot. “Make ready immediately – we are leaving in short notice.

Shinn returned to the company with the new men just after the last spool of raw silk was loaded on the baggage train. Within a moment, the company, now bolstered with yet more horses, set out for Jayek.

Along the way, the mere sight of the villages in the distance appalled the “coordinator”. Literally every village westward of Rivacheg was in flame, the smoke from the debris visible miles away, up to and including the very village they were setting out for.

“The... Nords,” Shinn said, gritting his teeth. “They did this?”

“Calradia, captain,” Firentis said, sighing. “Although I’d admit that the Nords are more raid-inclined than the rest of the civilized Calradian folks, albeit just ever so slightly more so.”

”They will pay for this… when I am stronger…”

At dawn the next day, Shinn and his gang finally found the bandits waiting for ransom, waiting in a particular forest clearing not far away from Jayek – or whatever was left of it.

Negotiations, unsurprisingly, broke down rather quickly. The bandits kept demanding their ransom be paid first, something that even a kid could see through, Shinn thought.

“You wish,” Shinn said, spitting on the ground, before drawing his blade and ready himself for combat.

It was, unfortunately, the third battle in a row that did not go very well for Shinn’s little army. The hilly, wooded terrain did little to help him, and despite his best effort, the group still walked away with sizable damage. Most notably, the “Best horses in Calradia” were almost completely cut down, dead and wounded. So much for their boastings.

Luckily, during the commotion the kidnapped girl managed to hide away, thus sparing her person from a stray arrow or a malevolent blade. Either way, she was safe and sound and ready to be escorted back to Ichamur to reunite with her parents. Apart from that, the only other silver lining behind the entire business was that owing to the inevitable violence, Shinn walked away with the money meant to be for the ransom. Adding on the promised rewards from the guildmaster in Ichamur and deducting the cost for hiring the mostly useless mercenaries, the coordinator captain would score a solid 600 denar profit, excluding loot and the amount gained from the random trading in Rivacheg. Not a bad business, if not for the senseless waste of human life.

On the way back to Ichamur, Shinn and his company stopped by his old village. Like the castle it was attached to, Tadsamesh was now flying the Swadian color on its manor.

“So this is your old home, isn’t it?” Firentis asked. “I’m glad to see it’s in good shape.”

“Yeah…” Shinn answered with a sigh, his voice trailing off.

“Aren’t you going in?” Firentis asked. “You know, saying a simple greeting to your old friends?”

“The same reason why you don’t want to go into Suno and meet your relatives,” Shinn finally answered. “I… am not ready for that. Yet.”

Within a day’s trek, the group made it back to Ichamur, with Jeremus healing the men as best as he could en route. As Shinn handed over the girl to the guildmaster, the elated old man called Shinn over and gave him, aside from the promised bounties, a tip.

“Listen, young man,” he said. “Good-hearted people like you are few and far between these days, and I commend you for that. Though, a kind heart won’t get you very far in these difficult times. You need money for that – cold, hard denars.”

“I understand, sir,” Shinn nodded. “I will work my hardest for that.”

“You don’t understand, young fellow,” the guildmaster shook his head. “In this day and age, brute force won’t help you very much. You need guile and business acumen for that.”

“But…”

Shinn was not exactly a man of the merchant trade. His parents had, by way of the education brought from this “Orb Union”, taught him more in maths and the like than most merchants in this land, but that was about as much as he knew. Simply bean counting was not his style.

“… that’s not my strength, sir,” he finally admitted sheepishly.

“Why, that’s what guild masters like myself and my opposite numbers elsewhere in the continent are for,” the guildmaster smiled. “I’ve already spread the good word about you to some of my friends over in Vaegir and Swadian lands – if you ask them and have the right money in your pocket, they can help you find a piece of land to set up a business at a premium. With just the minimal attention, these enterprises will print you money.”

Shinn was stunned by that revelation. Was earning money really that easy?”

“Are you kid… I mean, are you sure about this, sir?”

“Not at all,” the guildmaster said. “So long as you don’t do silly things like setting up a bakery in Dhirim where bread is cheaper than water or a dyework in Veluca where people wear velvet to work, you’ll earn a steady income in the long run to support your brothers… and then some.”

There was a moment of silence as Shinn considered the offer. His mind, though, still went blank. The entire business seemed too sudden to him, after all.

“I’ll think about it,” Shinn said, for want of anything else to say.

“Don’t just think,” the guildmaster said. “Do something, and do it fast. Time is money, if you catch my drift. Besides, aren’t you looking to furnish your band some horsemen of your own? You need money for that too. Lots and lots of denars, dear boy.”

“Doesn’t land cost money too?” Shinn asked back, apparently having gone cross-eyed at all the money talk.

“Curaw, Wercheg and Rivacheg are the key, young man, if I should give you a tip. It’s not called the most dangerous trade route in Calradia for nothing, what with the most dangerous of raiders pillaging that path,” the guildmaster said. “Though, if you are strong enough to handle a large party of kidnappers, you should have enough under your belt to make money out of that triangle.”

For a second Shinn stared at the old man, as though waiting for a nod of confirmation. Which he did get.

“Do pass by some of the outlying villages while you are at it,” the guildmaster told Shinn as a parting word. “You’ve garnered some fame in these parts, enough to gather some volunteers if you speak to them.”

Next thing his followers knew, the company rapidly changed its course and headed straight north, not before gathering a few Khergit tribesmen eager for adventure.

As they passed by the hinterland around Dhirim, news reached the group that the Nord army besieging the city of Curaw had completely and utterly annihilated the defender, and now claiming the city’s walls and all its facilities as their own.

“It was a massacre, or so I heard,” Shinn heard a peasant or two spoke on that matter. “The Vaegir’s best warriors were no match for the sheer prowess of the Nord Huscarls.”

“Nord Huscarls,” Shinn mentally repeated. “When I’ve gotten stronger, they will die just like any other foe. Just they wait.”

"And for that, I'm going to need more mobile armor."

----

End of chapter notes:

1) The costly victories - all of them - were the fault of me the player rather than anything. At their low levels, companions are simply not good enough for anything except sitting back and plinking at the enemies with bows or crossbows. I want to speed up the process. Also, reliable cav caravan guards and manhunters are not.

2) It's going to be time for Shinn to get his new horse soon. According to my plans, he'll snag a Steppe Charger or Warhorse as soon as he finds enough money for a diework in Rivacheg. And call it, what else? Impulse.

And then this music will play.

(Shinn Asuka is the guy holding the pistol in the poster, if you haven't recognized yet) 

 

[Satrab]

Going after huscarls eh? Here's some friendly advice: Don't. If you go, they will dismount you and... Simply facehug you. I'm sure you knew that huscarls aren't an easy foe though. If you want though, best tactics to fight a huscarl is not to fight him. Your ranged troops will be your friends.

How's your forest bandits by the way? If your playing on hard settings they should have gotten some blood. Especially if there is about 20 of them.

Nice armor BTW.

 

[Argeus the Paladin]

^ That entire attitude is to simulate the fact that Shinn Asuka is, in canon, nothing less than a rabid dog in recklessness and ferocity when he's down to things he'd made an enemy out of. We are talking about the only Gundam lead over so many incarnations and alternate universes who actually joins the bad guys and gets beaten up by the good guys messily in the finale after all.

Then again, it all boils down to whom you think is the "good guys" in the anime. Gundam SEED Destiny was... polarizing, to say the least.

Still, make no mistake - a thoughtful strategist and leader of men like Floris or Evangeline this kid is not. Not by a long shot. He'd be perfectly happy to charge a Nord shieldwall on his lonesome if someone told him that's a first step to world peace or somesuch

On that note, huscarls are mostly overrated on field battles. Keep them distracted, wheel around behind them and WHACK! One Huscarl down. Rinse and repeat.

 

[Satrab]

^That bolded text made me  very hard. Anyway just get the next chapter and we will be done with.