From the journal of Gerard Orin: A normal person’s point of view
Woke up again today, damn. Sometimes, I wish I just wouldn’t wake up after going to sleep after having my ass handed to me in a beating or a game of blackjack, but nothing ever seems to go my way. Since I’m apparently the local professional of “picking **** up and putting it over there”, I’m usually forced to head to the hellhole that is Marleons. I don’t know if it’s the smell of feces, beggars, or the Red Brotherhood mooks hanging around the tavern… Actually, it's all of them.
It had been a week last since we took the crop to Marleons to sell to the market. Nasty place, but luckily my childhood friend Duncan knew the feeling of coin in his pocket, and how to get a damn good deal on pretty much anything. I guess he and I were the only ones that ever mattered on these trips, since the women just ran off and looked at dresses and the men would go and watch the brawls in the arena. Useless idiots.
We only made about 200 denari this time around, mostly because of a lack of grain to sell. Farmers were sick or something; didn’t matter to me. I was usually out hunting. Duncan pocketed the coin; of course taking a little cut for himself later, and gathered everyone so we could make our way back. Yet, something was suspicious. He seemed nervous for some reason, yet I couldn’t really nail it down. Everyone was in the center, and we headed back to Pern, only a few hours away. Duncan took the lead and I just shambled aimlessly in the back like I always do.
It only took a minute. The moment Marleons had faded from view, some Red Brotherhood goons on their coursers charged at us from the wood ahead. I never saw them beforehand, but Duncan sure as hell knew they were there. He stood there motionless, and everyone else scattered like mad. I guess those goons were sitting outside the tavern for a reason today. Everyone was quickly knocked out or even outright killed by the metal maces and horse tramples. At least I caught a glimpse of the face of mine before I smacked in the face. Ugly bastard.
Luckily for me, I’ve taken harder hits to the head than what this guy did. Ever fight a pissed off Fierdsvainite peasant who had a shovel? Of course not, but he hit a hell of a lot harder than this moron did. I just played dead anyway. They were going to throw me on the wagon with the rest of them, so it didn’t really matter. I knew a couple of them were dead, but I definitely know Duncan isn’t in the pile.
After they threw my “corpse” onto the wagon though, the unexpected happen. Some crazy naked woman came out of the same wood the Red Brotherhood did, swinging around a gigantic bardiche – with a mob of peasants behind her. The goons quickly mobilized and rode full speed at this raving devil woman and her unruly mob, probably to outright kill her – you can’t make a sex slave out of that, no matter how pretty she is.
Didn’t end well at all for the goons. Luckily, I got to watch the whole thing from the wagon. The one wearing the striking red, whom I presumed to be the leader, was the first to reach the mob – and his horse, as well as his right leg, were cut out from right underneath him. Before he could even reach the ground again, this berserk woman’s weapon was already hoisted up again – and cleaved right through his skull. Every other rider tried to rear their horses to get the hell out of there, but they were already too close to the peasant mob to get away. All of the men and their horses were clubbed, cleaved
and stabbed to death by these people. They must have been screwed in the head, drunk or without that drug I heard Buriligi the Usurper gives his troops.
After that little ten second engagement, I hopped out of the wagon, and stumbled a little bit and then just fell the hell over. The first one to me, of course, was the naked woman. My mind must have been scrambling all over the place looking for how to deal with this kind of situation, since it has never really ever happened before; not in my life, anyone in Pern’s, or in any legend I’ve heard of.
“
You! What’s your name?”
I was actually expecting something like this, seeing as how she reminded me of some crazed Mystmountain girl I met a few years ago named Adonja.
“Uhh… Gerard?”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Your life is mine now, and you are no longer some pissant peasant errand boy. You are a soldier in my company, and will be so until I kick you the hell out or until you die.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Get up, you’ll have time to lick your wounds later. Fall in line.”
Yeah, just what I needed. Not only is this woman running around naked with a Bardiche and a helmet covering her face, she’s also some military hard-ass. I don’t know how I can take any of this seriously, but she saved my life, so I guess it makes sense I do whatever the hell she tells me. And all of these peasants reek of booze. There better be plenty of it for me, because I’m gonna need it.
First thing we do is go to Marleons… because I definitely need to see the place that pretty much made my life end in the first place again. Luckily, I’m part of a mercenary company now, despite being a raggedy-ass peasant like everyone else. As we approach the gates, the woman walks up to me.
“I want you to come with me to the tavern. I’ve got some business with the Brotherhood broker there. Nobody is going to give a damn about you or recognize you inside there, so relax. And don’t stare at my ass.”
I can do all of that except not staring at her barely covered ass. She might be insane, but damn, that is a glorious thing to stare at. Of course I’m not going to tell her that, so I just nodded and followed her to the tavern.
It reeked of smoke and booze, but of course it does, it’s a bloody tavern. She quickly found her mate and sat down next to him, helmet being the only actual clothing and all. The guy’s eyes didn’t even look down once. I guess she’s scary enough to make a man not do something he naturally does. I took my own seat near the door and ordered some mead – I still had some denari in my pocket, since Red Brotherhood goons are too dumb to frisk the bodies. I paid for it. By the time I took the first sip of some of that delicious relief, I felt her hand on my shoulder.
“We’re staying here for a couple days. I need to stay here to wait on a slave the man over there is putting up for sale. You need the rest anyway, seeing as how you’re still… bleeding. I paid for your room already, so do whatever you want.”
Yeah, there was still a gash on my head.
Next two days flew by like they didn’t even happen. I was pretty much bedridden from that bash to the head. I guess it was harder than I thought. A doctor came by and saw, and he offered to patch it up for nothing – nice guy. Wish I could’ve given him something. When the time came, we all met in front of the gates to head out, crazy naked woman present and all. I still don’t even know her name, but as far as I know, she was probably raised by wolves and never had one. Best not to press the issue.
We walked out front, and there was a Brotherhood goon standing next to a man with a horse. The horse was covered in black dyed leather with some sort of yellow pattern. The man next to the horse was cuffed and shackled. The goon was also carrying a chest with him.
“You know the deal. Drop the chest and release him. He belongs to me.”
The goon did as she commanded, without missing a beat. He quickly keyed the cuffs and shackles, and opened the chest. He shot off towards the gate like a bat out of hell afterwards.
“You’re mine, Knight of Eventide. You’ll fight plenty of fanatics and what-not, don’t worry.”
We wandered a couple days around the area north of the capital city of Sarleon, and hunted down the local bandits. They’re dumber than those goons from the Brotherhood – there’s never a group of more than 15, and they have no coordination. Then again, with a heavily armored death knight with our group, nothing is going to seem terribly difficult. We fight for a few days, earning some loot and coin off the bodies. Most of the cash goes to the woman, but its best that it does – buying all the supplies to keep us going. It’s a hard life, but at least not as boring as picking **** up and putting it down again.
Resting at Sarleon now for a few days. The woman took a nasty hit to the arm from a crossbow bolt, but luckily the thing was defunct and didn’t break anything; just pierced the flesh. She heals very quickly, so it won’t be long before we’re out again. Might as well get boozed up like everyone else so I can get into that drunken mob mentality. Seems to work out, because it is very intimidating to a bandit when he sees about 25 people rushing at him, screaming obscenities and waving weapons around.
Next time I’m conscious, we’re at bloody Valonbray. I’m not sure how long I was passed out or inebriate, because I sure as hell don’t remember the trip over. Must have been all the booze from Sarleon, but it doesn’t matter – in a Fierdsvain city, everyone is drunk! I’ll just man up through the hangover and drink some more.
I decide to spectate the arena, and much to my surprise, I see my fearless leader participating in the melee. Nobody has ever seen a woman participate in the arena, ever. She doesn’t let that get in the way however, and she goes at it with all the men there. I couldn’t stop staring at her ass the entire time. Sure, it may have been a good time to see how my leader fights and all and see if I’d learn a thing or two, but her ass is just too damn glorious for me to do anything other than stare it down. It’s certainly staring me down…
She wins a couple, loses a couple. I’m surprised she even won any, but then again, this is a naked woman who took on the Red Brotherhood. With some dough in her pocket, she heads off to the tavern herself. I followed her inside, giving myself the honorary position as her shadow. She starts talking to this dark-skinned lady in the corner, whom, at least to me, looked like a bandit. She wasn’t bad looking either, and the more women in the company, the better. It seems to keep the lads happy. She introduces herself to me as Riva, and tells me about her “noble” heritage. Took it in with all of the salt the D’shar have in those bloody mines.
We stick around for a few days, and begin to head north towards Javiksholm, the capital of the Fierdsvain. We don’t stop by, however, which is new to me – I guess the woman is up to something. In fact, we keep pressing far enough north to the point where we’re at the large forest on the Fierdsvain/Ravenstern border. Find some bandits there, but it’s the same crap we dealt with near Sarleons. Just a bunch of mooks with clubs.
It’s as cold as all hell and drier than a witches’ teat up here. But the STILL naked woman is not affected by weather apparently. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s even human at this point. The people around here are pretty nice though, and I love their accent. If I could get out of this troop, I could probably settle somewhere near Rane or Senderfall, away from all the damn bandits and wars…
Our fearless leader pays for our accommodations at the tavern in the capital of Ravenstern for the next couple of days. It appears as though she still needs a couple days of rest, having jumped the gun from Valonbray. Lo and behold, she and I meet Adonja. I’d recognize that face anywhere, but it appears as though she doesn’t remember me. I barely remembered her in the first place anyway, so I don’t take offense. The woman made an offer to join the company, in return for paying her tab of… 1200 denars. Nobody racks up a tab like that unless they’re buying rounds for everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY. We also take in a couple of Jatu mercenaries who happened to be there, looking for a new master. I’ve heard some crazy stories about these guys, how they never run in cowardice, how they fight like demons, how quickly they ride across Pendor. Good thing these guys are on our side, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
We head back down south. I guess she was getting a little cold up there, but I would’ve loved to see the rest of the northlands. We pass by a couple of lesser Fierdsvain lords with their warbands, probably off to their next raid. We approach one of them, with our swords sheathed of course – we’re not insane – and she begins talking to their leader, who introduces himself as Sigrun Redaxe. The two hit it off, and they talk to each other for a little while. I start gambling with some of his boys, never winning a damn thing. They probably knew I was from Sarleon and sucked at betting, so I lost my little fortune of 20 denars. Wasn’t a poor sport about it though, and they brought me some booze from their quartermaster to cheer me up a bit. I like these guys even more than the people in Ravenstern.
Couple hours pass by into dusk. She gathers us all around, and tells us that we now have an “actual” job. We’re now a mercenary company for the Fierdsvain. The boys and girls of the company cheer and celebrate, and we all get drunk again. Hell, we actually matter now! I’m probably gonna see those guys again, so I can win that cash back. Hell, I might even buy them a little something.
At about midnight, a messenger from the marshal, Einkr Onehand, delivers a message to the woman that the company is to report to him immediately, in the vicinity of Kennet Castle, a day’s ride south. Kennet Castle was currently held by a lord of Sarleon, so there was a chance I could be smacking a cousin of mine or something. Not that I know if I have any relatives other than the family in Pern. Also, that Knight of Eventide ditched us the moment the marshal arrived. He just up and left. Nobody else has a horse except Adonja, and he was long gone before anyone noticed. He’s probably jonesing for some still-beating hearts of the local women. Not sure why he stuck around for so long when he could have left the first night.
We actually meet Einkr and his host on our way down there, and we accompany him and the rest of the lords down there. He intends to take the castle for the Fierdsvain, and his scouts tell him it’s the most easily accessible, as the other ones garrisons would put up too much of a fight for their comfort. They wanted to shock Sarleon. They know a lot more than I do, but this is what Riva’s been telling me. We arrive there in a few hours after meeting the host, and the castle is immediately surrounded, with Einkr’s engineers making some ladders.
About noon the next day, the horns bellowed out their battle cries, and the loyal Fierdsvain charged at the ONE ladder that was put up. Just one. Nobody thought this through apparently, but they charged up it nonetheless. We were held in the reserve, waiting to go in with the rest of the scrubs once the pros were all exhausted or just plain killed. It didn’t go that badly, however – the thick shields and short axes worked wonders, and they quickly made room on the wall and cleared it out. Didn’t hear much screaming, except from the berserkers, just clashing metal. Speaking of which, those berserkers are pretty much naked as well, except for at least wearing pants, and they have the same fighting style as the woman – I’ll have to ask her about it later.
They took the castle, and everyone shook hands and pretty much left. Campaign was short and sweet – they all looked like battered housewives, the ones that lived. We’re heading to Valonbray, except I’ll be conscious this time. We could use a little RnR, but those soldiers definitely need it more than we do.
