>>3623404

>"I've killed before." [Technically True]

>"Shortsword, polearms, lances. And a bit of plain ol' pugilism." [Honest]

>>3623406
>"Shortsword, polearms, lances. And a bit of plain ol' pugilism." [Honest]

>>3623406
>"Shortsword, polearms, lances. And a bit of plain ol' pugilism." [Honest]

>>3623412
>>3623413
>"Shortsword, polearms, lances." [Honest]

He looked up. Then just as quickly looked down. I silently cursed my physical deformities, all two of them. People were superstitious about eye colours in these parts of Sinae. It was one of the reasons I didn't manage to hold down a single job for long.

"You don't look old enough to have training in so many weapons," the serjeant said brusquely. "You a deserter from the legions?"

"No. Want to see my arm?"

"No need. Only fething idiots ditch the legions only to join the Company. I'll need you to prove your skills with those weapons later. Language?"

"I'm speaking Sinaean with you, aren't I?"

"Don't get fresh with me, boy," he grunted, still avoiding my eyes. "The Company has a lot of men. Foreigners, some of them. It helps to know what kind of languages you can use."

>"What is this, the sign-up sheet for an Imperial Examination?" [Evade]

>"Sinaean, obviously. Greek. Some Latin. I know a bit of Parthian, too, if that helps." [Honest]

>>3623417

>"Sinaean, obviously. Greek. Some Latin. I know a bit of Parthian, too, if that helps." [Honest]

Maybe we will be put into something useful

>>3623417

>"Sinaean, obviously. Greek. Some Latin. I know a bit of Parthian, too, if that helps." [Honest]

What the fuck are we? Some demigod or something? Certanly not a peasant

>>3623433
>>3623436

"Read? Write?" The sergeant asked.

I shrugged. "Not much of a point if I can't do either. Why would I learn half a language?"

He made a kind of a disbelieving snort. Understandable. Linguists weren't common this corner of the Empire. But when you have as little to do as I do, you'll find that any distraction, even the boring old academic sort, is welcome. Up toa point.

"You'll get tested on that, too," he promised. "Background issues? Anything that will drag in to the well-being of the Company? I'll tell you right now that if you are thinking of somehow using Company status to avenge your dead parents or some bullshit like that, you will be executed."

>"As far as I know, I'm clean as a Whistle." [Lie by Omission + Pun]

>"I'm not bringing any baggage with me, aside from my armour and traveling pack." [Pseudotruth]

>>3623439
>"As far as I know, I'm clean as a Whistle." [Lie by Omission + Pun]

>>3623439
>>"As far as I know, I'm clean as a Whistle." [Lie by Omission + Pun]

>>3623439

>"I'm not bringing any baggage with me, aside from my armour and traveling pack." [Pseudotruth]

>>3623463
Running two quests now?

>>3623452
>>3623458
>>"As far as I know, I'm clean as a Whistle." [Lie by Omission + Pun]

It was even true. Kind of. None of the local constabularies would be looking for me, and anyone else wouldn't think I would be all the way here in the middle of boring ol' Jian'an. Farmers' daughters and fresh milk is all well and good, but a young man like me starts longing for action something fierce. And those who know me, know me enough to discount the countryside as a hiding place. More fool they.

More fool I.

"Well, I can't test for that," he said begrudgingly, wincing only slightly from my terrible joke. He didn't even bother glancing at the stack of 'wanted' posters from the prefecture's bureaucrats. Anyone would remember golden-eyed criminals. The rumours alone would have accosted me on the road here. Not that I was entirely bloodless. Just because Jian'an was a peaceful province didn't mean there weren't bandits, the mean and small sort that don't make big enough waves to get the prefects all concerned.

"Once you sign up, the only way out is two feet first," the sergeant warned. "You'll be dedicating your life to the Company. One of us until the bitter end. Are you sure you want to do this?"

I wasn't about to let the blood of three bandits be shed for nothing. Besides, it was hard to hold on to a job in this economy. And society. Farmers tightened their grips on pitchforks when I passed them by with a friendly greeting, and milkmaids turned around from the road, thinking me and my golden eyes might spoil their milk rotten. Superstitions, am I right?

"Sure as sure," I replied, thereby sealing my life to the Company for the foreseeable future. "Where do I sign?"

"Not here," the sergeant told me. "Behind me, in the tent. You'll find Scrivener."

>>3623467
---

Scrivener, it turned out, was not a name but a title. There were Scriveners before him, and Scriveners after him too, likely as not. At this moment, Scrivener was a scrawny old man, half-blind from too much reading under candlelight and a beard that sorely needed trimming.

"You're the one Sergeant Iacob accepted?" Scrivener asked, squinting at me as if that would help his eyesight. "I heard you, you know. Knowing multiple languages - not too common among youngsters. Don't think you won't be tested on them."

"I heard of you, too," I told him. Some parts of the Annals were spread for public consumption, though not willingly, I suspect. Centuries of warring had resulted in some of the precious memorial-books of the Company getting looted by rival mercenary outfits or plumb lost. "Scrivener Lee was a looker. Or so I am told."

"And short-lived," the modern day Scrivener cackled. "She barely contributed a chapter to the Annals before running off with the Captain. They were both hanged, of course. The only way out of the Company-"

I interrupted him. "Yeah, I got the spiel from Frown-Face outside. I'm supposed to sign my name here, aren't I?"

"Here's the contract." The old man produced a scruffy parchment, dotted with tiny scripts that marched off the edge of the paper like ants. I didn't bother reading it. I knew what it said.

I hesitated. "Whatever I write here, it will be my name regardless of what I was named before?" That was the famous law of the Black Company. It was the reason many criminals with light enough charges not to be pursued for execution but heavy or embarassing enough that they would flee would join the outfit. Sometimes, they were nicknames, taken from his or her appearances or characteristics. At other times, they were wishful thinkings. I have it in good authority that Biggus Dickus a frequently occuring character in the Annals throughout the centuries.

The old man nodded. "Choose wisely, or not at all. The name you pick now will be the name used by your brothers."

So I signed.

>Biggus Dickus, if only to keep the tradition going.

>Aurelius, on account of my golden pupils.

>Lu Bu, because I was something of a fanboy of that ancient warrior of myths and legends.

>Whisper, after the town I joined up the Black Company in. My sentimentality knows no bounds.

>>3623466
Loose lips...

>>3623471
>White bitch, that's what your friends used to call you

>>3623471
>Aurelius, on account of my golden pupils.

Birds of prey and other predators are famous for their golden like eyes too.

>>3623471
tradition going.

>Aurelius, on account of my golden pupils.

>>3623471

>Aurelius, on account of my golden pupils.

>>3623492
>>3623478
>>3623488

"I thought my eyesight was going. You really do have golden pupils."

I looked up. The old Scrivener was staring at me, though not with the revulsion or fear that I was used to. "I hope that's not a problem."

"No problem at all," he took the contract out of my hands. "You are one of us, now, Aurelius." Was he mocking my name choice, subtly prodding that it was too fancy for someone of my station? Maybe he was right. But it was better than Biggus Dickus.

"When are we going?" I didn't have a lot of goodwill stored with the innkeeper, and my reserves of brass was quickly running out. That was one of the reasons I befriended Peytr, I admit. Years on the road will bring any honest man to a mercenary lifestyle.

When he heard my situation, Scrivener told me where he could find the rest of the Company men. There were only ten here, a platoon's worth. A recruitment party. The main camp, he said, was further west.

When I exited the tent, I waved the Sergeant, who didn't wave back, and waved at the dejected Peytr, who did. He immediately sprang up to me. "You owe me," the farmboy said, ignoring the way others lined up to join were edging away from me on account of my eyes. "Please. I need to join the Black Company."

"Three sandwiches," I sighed, aghast at the moral rot that set in on the preciously innocent farmboy after three days of chatter with me. That was hardly fair - how was I supposed to convince a Sergeant I just met, especially when he didn't like me? I don't think he hated me, because that was his default attitude, but he didn't favour me either, and that amounts to the same thing.

"I... I can't go back," Peytr did that thing with his eyes again, and I found myself wavering.

>So I marched back to the Sergeant.

>"Go back home," I told him with a gentleness I hoped he could sense.

>>3623509
"Why? You have a life there, you'll die here, so why you can't go back?"

>>3623509
>So I marched back to the Sergeant.

So he doesn't have the supplies to return? Sure thing man come aboard. You will probably die on the road anyway.

>>3623509
>So I marched back to the Sergeant.

>>3623509
>So I marched back to the Sargeant

>>3623509
>"You are too nice for a mercenary. Go back home," I told him with a gentleness I hoped he could sense.

>>3623547
>>3623542
>>3623521
"What's wrong with Peytr?"

The Sergeant half-turned, irritation written on his face. It didn't take Zhuge Liang to know he was not in the mood. But I am an old romantic. When push comes to shove, I like to think that I will be doing the pushing instead of the being shoved. So I asked again. "What's wrong with Peytr as a candidate? He's strong enough, and you can probably teach him how to swing a spear."

The line of men looking to join had by then thinned significantly. Maybe it was my eyes. It was definitely my eyes. Maybe that was why the Sergeant was so irate, and not my interruption of his questioning to a big oaf who looked like he used to be a miner.

"Do you know why I am angry, trooper?"

"Is it because most of the wannabes went away because of my eyes?"

"It is not because most of the wannabes ran away because of your eyes," he says, looking at me straight in the eyes. In that moment, I felt a flicker of respect. "It is because he is an only son in a decent family, and despite fifteen years in the Company, I am not enough of a cold hearted bastard to deprive a mother of his son." It seemed I struck gold for an officer. He really was a swell guy.

"And the father?" I asked helpfully.

"Fuck the father." Like many soldiers, he had deep seated issues with paternal figures.

"...my sister," Peytr said, voice as quiet as a mouse. Rats are the loud ones. Mice just squick.

"Come again?"

"I said, I did it with my sister," the comely farmboy repeated louder, looking defiantly at the both of us. The prospect of having to return home had allowed him to summon up the strength, for all the wrong reasons. "And by 'did it', I mean-"

"Welcome to the Company," the Sergeant said. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Years of life had given me a deep wisdom in reading people's emotions. Right now, that experience-honed instinct told me that the Sergeant was angry. So I beat an expeditious retreat, carefully dragging (but not touching) the shocked farmboy into Scrivener's tent. The name he was given was, perhaps unimaginatively, Sister.

>>3623566
The next few days, we lounged around the inn (my tabs now under the Company's, making it hard for the innkeeper to throw me out) watching the villagers' daughters and getting acquainted with each other. Scrivener figured out I was being honest about my linguistic capabilities pretty quick, but the threatened combat trial didn't come. The Sergeant was unhappy about the rate of recruitment, and he was eager to move back to where the rest of their black brothers were.

"Do you think I'm disgusting?" Sister asked me while we were underway to Silver. The Black Company was camped outside that city.

"No," I answered, and slapped his hand that was tugging at my sleeves. "Please stop touching me."

"I think it's love, you know?" Sister started. I hastily moved up to change the order of the marching line, and decided to strike up a conversation with one of my new brothers.

>The one with the ugly, scarred mug. He probably had a lovely heart to form an ironic contrast to his exterior.

>The arrogant bastard named Quick. He had a rapier, and a mustache, and- you probably formed a mental image of him already.

>The shy one, named Hood. She was one of the new recruits, a barbarian from the island of Alexandria Eskhata.

>>3623567
>The shy one, named Hood. She was one of the new recruits, a barbarian from the island of Alexandria Eskhata.

>>3623567
>The one with the ugly, scarred mug. He probably had a lovely heart to form an ironic contrast to his exterior.

>>3623567

>The shy one, named Hood. She was one of the new recruits, a barbarian from the island of Alexandria Eskhata.

Barbarian you say?

Also, if Sister loves his sister he should go for it.

>>3623567

>The shy one, named Hood. She was one of the new recruits, a barbarian from the island of Alexandria Eskhata.

>>3623591
>>3623574
>>3623602

"Hi." There is nothing wrong with a simple greeting. Hood responded with a stiff nod, and adjusted her hood closer. I was not deterred. And unlike the others, I had the advantage of speaking Greek. "Lovely weather for a march, isn't it?"

Hood unshouldered her bow.

"Days like these, it really makes me appreciate the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. Say, do you always wear that hood?"

Hood restrung her bow.

"I know you're feeling a little shy, but maybe a little open air might do you some good. I don't even know what you look like, and we're supposed to be brothers!"

She nocked an arrow.

"Oop, I think it's time to make friends with others. Good talk, let's do it again sometime!"

Sure, she did point the arrow at me, but she didn't fire. And that makes all the difference. I decided to make more friends today.

>The Sergeant looked glum. I made the mistake of thinking too highly of my charisma and went to cheer him up.

>Quick was chatting with Sister. I wondered if there was some sort of radar that sisterfuckers use to tell each other apart.

>At least Ugly Mug didn't have a bow and arrow to threaten me with.

>>3623605

>At least Ugly Mug didn't have a bow and arrow to threaten me with.

I bet he is just as ugly on the inside.

>>3623611
Also, it was the eyes wasn't it? Barbarians might be more superticious than other

>"And the father?" I asked helpfully.
>"Fuck the father." Like many soldiers, he had deep seated issues with paternal figures.
>"...my sister," Peytr said, voice as quiet as a mouse. Rats are the loud ones. Mice just squick.
>"Come again?"
>"I said, I did it with my sister," the comely farmboy repeated louder, looking defiantly at the both of us. The prospect of having to return home had allowed him to summon up the strength, for all the wrong reasons. "And by 'did it', I mean-"
>"Welcome to the Company," the Sergeant said. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Quality writing, QM.

>>3623605
>The Sergeant looked glum. I made the mistake of thinking too highly of my charisma and went to cheer him up.

I like him, ok.

>>3623605

>The Sergeant looked glum. I made the mistake of thinking too highly of my charisma and went to cheer him up.

>>3623605
>>The Sergeant looked glum. I made the mistake of thinking too highly of my charisma and went to cheer him up.

>>3623605
>>The Sergeant looked glum. I made the mistake of thinking too highly of my charisma and went to cheer him up.

>>3623628
>>3623625
>>3623621
>>3623616

The Sergeant turned his head to look who it was. "Oh."

"You want to talk about it?" I asked.

Sergeant sighed. "I don't know what it is with you, golden eyes."

"Aurelius," I helpfully reminded him of my name.

"Goldfuck," Sergeant said as if he didn't hear me. "First a recruit with Alexandrian eyes, and now with a literal sisterfucker."

"I think Quick is also a sister fucker," I told him. I had a nose for these things.

"I don't care if he fucks his sisters or his nephews," Sergeant growled. "Look. This is my first command, my first platoon. I cannot afford to fuck this up. I cannot afford to let YOU fuck this up for me."

That hurt. I was no harm to anybody, if we looked at the last eleven years. And as for longer than that, I say let bygones be bygones. Life is too short to hold decade-long grudges. "I won't fuck this up for you," I assured him.

"Don't say, do. If it wasn't for your capability as an interpreter, I would have never have admitted you in."

"What?" I was hurt. Never let it be said that I partook in base nepotism of the linguistic kind! "Do you not need any lancers? Polearms are the standard weapons for the average Black Company trooper, aren't they? And shortswords are, well, shortswords!" Ubiquitous things, those shortswords. Can never have enough of them.

"You're going to be Scrivener's, soon as we join back with HQ," he told me. "Then you'll be off my hands."

That was not good. I didn't join up the Company to ink quills and fetch herbal teas for the old fogeys. I told him how I felt about this development. He told me in no uncertain terms where I could shove my concerns.

"Just keep quiet and don't make trouble, Alexandrian," Sergeant said threateningly. He still wouldn't look into my eyes.

"I won't." And that was a promise. I had all the intention in the world to keep it.

The platoon commanded by Sergeant consisted of myself, Ugly Mug (not his name), Quick, Scrivener, Sister, and Hood. There were three others, hanger-ons and extras. I didn't bother learning their names.

"Name's James, mate," one of the extras offered me a hand after I had that talk with Sergeant. "Heard you talking with Sergeant. You in trouble already?"

"You don't mind my eyes?"

"What?" the extra named James said. "Mate, I'm colour blind."

"Oh." I briefly considered graduating him from extra to tentative associate.

"Look, the reason I'm talking with you is, I think that Sergeant fellow is a right hardass," he whispered conspiratorially. It struck me how much distance we'd gained from the rest of the platoon, me and the three extras. I still wasn't sure about graduating the extra named James. "I figure, you might be interested in a little payback?"

>>3623640

"What kind of payback?" I asked. I was raised from a strict household, and never got to participate in childhood pranks. It was a sore point in my otherwise exemplary life.

"The three of us, we ain't actually gonna join the Company," one of the extras said, grinning evilly. "All that armour and weapon in the wagon, I figger it's gonna do us more good than some dead black brothers. You get me?"

I did. "And you want me to help?"

"'course!" Extra named James said. "Why, yer practically family, what with Sergeant hatin' yer guts!"

I decided not to graduate James from extrahood.

>If there is anything I like less than a cup of hot chocolate gone cold, it's traitors. So I told them precisely what I thought about this plan of theirs.

>Mutiny right off the bat? This was way above my paygrade. I boldly ran away.

>>3623642
>If there is anything I like less than a cup of hot chocolate gone cold, it's traitors. So I told them precisely what I thought about this plan of theirs.

>>3623642
>If there is anything I like less than a cup of hot chocolate gone cold, it's traitors. So I told them precisely what I thought about this plan of theirs.

Damn, I was starting to like James the extra. Ratting our comrades is a no-no, but these aren’t comrades.

>>3623642
>If there is anything I like less than a cup of hot chocolate gone cold, it's traitors. So I told them precisely what I thought about this plan of theirs.

I hope we did it with our fist

>>3623642

>If there is anything I like less than a cup of hot chocolate gone cold, it's traitors. So I told them precisely what I thought about this plan of theirs

Nut kick? Nut kick.

>>3623659
>Nut kick
+1

>>3623648
>>3623649
>>3623655
>>3623659
>>3623661

"This sounds like a very good idea," I told them. This was actually a fakeout. I didn't actually think this was a terribly good idea. In my line of business, we call this a lie.

"Right? I mean- oh sweet merciful Fortuna!" the extra who was not James moaned as I kicked his unmentionables, then ceased doing even that once my shortsword found purchase in his ear canal. Unfortunately, the blade got stuck by the pesky bone bits that covers one's thinking box. I let go of the shortsword, and the extra who was not James fell on the ground.

"What the fuck?" The other extra who was not James shouted. James clumsily swung his own pike.

Aurelius: Healthy
>Combat = +100DC [Healthy +5DC, Skilled II +10DC, Unnatural Strength +5DC, Unnatural Endurance +5DC, Unnatural Will +5DC, Elite II +20DC, Legionarius II +20DC, Chainmail +15DC, Roundhelm +10DC, Dagger +5DC]
>Armour Value = 30AV [Chainmail +15AV, Roundhelm +15AV]
VS
Extra named James: Healthy
Extra (not James): Healthy
>Combat = +60DC [Healthy +5DC, Chainmail +15DC, Pike +10DC, Extra (not James) +30DC]
>Armour Value = 15AV [Chainmail +15AV]

>Personal Combat DC90
>3d100

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>3623674

Falcon (shortsword to gut) punch!

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>3623674
do you want one person to roll 3d100 or three guys to roll 1d100?

>Legionarus

Ooh, plot.

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3623674

>>3623674
Ah very nice, big fan of the Black Company combat system.

>>3623674
Roll under or over?

What the FUCK is this?

>>3623467
>Anyone would remember golden-eyed criminals.
OMG OMG OMG

>>3623674
>Unnatural Strength +5DC, Unnatural Endurance +5DC, Unnatural Will +5DC, Elite II +20DC, Legionarius II +20DC
OwO what's this? :3

>>3623692
Who's that ?

>>3623677
>>3623678
>>3623681
>3 Success (roll under)

I immediately dodged, of course. Pikes are naturally unwieldy weapons, especially in the hands of an untrained combatant. Barrelling against the stomach of the one-not-called-James, I managed to duck beneath the swooping blade edge. The extra was not so lucky.

"I didn't intend to!" the extra named James cried out, as he failed to halt the momentum of his pike. Bereft of his weapon, lodged as it was in the stomach of the extra, he decided to take up his shortsword. That was what he should have done the moment close quarter combat began. I would have told him, but he had stopped being one of the black.

After that, it was a simple matter of being too close for him to use his sword. Shorter blades are almost always better in intimate situations, as one of my adopted fathers said (I forget which), since the balance was much easier to sift at a moment's notice. I elbowed his right armpit, which made him drop the sword. Then I slit his throat.

When I stood up to look at the rest of the platoon, I realised why they weren't coming to help. Extra named James was not so simple, after all. He'd had help.

Five bandits were already dead, but six more remained. And of the brothers, there were losses - bloody Quick was on the floor, unconscious, maybe a corpse. I couldn't tell. Sister seemed to have caught the fancy of one of the marauders, so I concluded he was safe for the time being, if not in mind then in body. Hood was unconscious as well. I couldn't see any wounds, but an archer is not useful for this kind of short-range melee, anyway. Scrivener was hiding under the tent-wagon. Of the fighting men of the platoon, only Sergeant and Ugly Mug were standing.

>And I merrily ran away.

>Picking up extra-named-James' shortsword, I ran to help. This romantic side of me will get me killed one of these days.

>>3623716
>picking up the shortsword
We may be fools, but we're not cowards.

>>3623716
>>Picking up extra-named-James' shortsword, I ran to help. This romantic side of me will get me killed one of these days.

>>3623716
>>Picking up extra-named-James' shortsword, I ran to help. This romantic side of me will get me killed one of these days.

>>3623716
>>Picking up extra-named-James' shortsword, I ran to help. This romantic side of me will get me killed one of these days.

>>3623716
>>Picking up extra-named-James' shortsword, I ran to help. This romantic side of me will get me killed one of these days.

>>3623716
>Picking up extra-named-James' shortsword, I ran to help. This romantic side of me will get me killed one of these days.

Tally-ho! Shall we see a return of the brutal casualty roster? Sister pls no

>>3623720
>>3623721
>>3623722
>>3623723
>>3623724
>>3623727

My father died from falling from a horse, I think. It is hard to remember. It was a particularly unheroic death, for an unheroic father who was never there to see his son grow up like the man he never was. Then again, he did marry my mother, who was (it was widely agreed) the most proper lady in all of the City. The point is, I would still be dying a better death than my father if I was cut to pieces while defending a freshly-sworn in mercenary outfit.

I am not a soldier. I do not have issues with paternal figures. But Sergeant was the first old gruff man who seemed to have a lick of morals in the eleven years of my traveling. The ones who seemed decent usually ended up revealing themselves as murderers, bandits, rapists, or sister fuckers.

I rushed to help Sergeant and Ugly, like the romantic that I was.

Aurelius: Healthy
>Combat = +110DC [Healthy +5DC, Skilled II +10DC, Unnatural Strength +5DC, Unnatural Endurance +5DC, Unnatural Will +5DC, Elite II +20DC, Legionarius II +20DC, Chainmail +15DC, Roundhelm +10DC, James' shotsword +15DC]
>Armour Value = 30AV [Chainmail +15AV, Roundhelm +15AV]
VS
Extra 1(bandit): Healthy
Extra 2 (bandit): Healthy
Extra 3 (bandit): Healthy
>Combat = +70DC [Healthy +5DC, Leather body armour (black) +10DC, Club +5DC, Extra 1 and 2 +50DC]
>Armour Value = 15AV [Leather body armour (black) +10AV]

>Personal Combat DC90
>3d100

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3623740

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3623740

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>3623740

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>3623740

>>3623743
>>3623745
>>3623747

One of the first things they train you in legionary camps was this: "Stab them with the pointy end." Then we repeated that training until our legs were sore and our arms were near to falling off. We did it the next day, then the morrow after that, until it became second nature to us.

Not that I was marked with the legionary's tattoo. I hear they're exceedingly difficult to get rid of, formed as it is from the Emperor's tears or some nonsense gobbledeegook like that.

What I was, was being very, very good at stabbing things. I lunged toward the first bandit, who was, like myself, a romantic. You do not need to be a fervent student of the histories to know about the Yellow Turbans who were active centuries ago all across Sinae. The man's handkerchief was decidedly less yellow and more brown, but the gesture was there. I gutted him first with gentle hands.

Then I rolled on the ground. The four remaining bandits were not clued in to my existence yet, though two were turning to intercept a new threat that they heard as Brown Turban fell on the earth. I sunk James' shortsword one more time, its blade so coated in human fat and meat residue by now. This is the problem with the younger generation. They don't take pride in their equipment, equipment that will outlast their lives. This one certainly did James. I left the shortsword in the second extra-bandit's belly and went for the dagger that slit James' throat.

It would be very embarassing if I didn't draw it quickly enough.

>1d100

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>3623753

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>3623753

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3623753

>>3623756
[This is a roll under quest]

I am often embarassed. A man I knew once snuck into my wife's house during a women-only party. The aftermath was explosive, and I had to divorce her to maintain appearances. Appearances! One of the things I don't need to bother with as a vagrant. I still miss her soft pillowy arms. The things I used to do for politics.

I wasn't embarassed at the speed of my draw. I can hear it now - "The fastest dagger in the East!" The blade was firmly lodged in to the eye socket of the third bandit. I looked around and then realised no one was here to applaud.

Ah, well. People prefer prolonged fights. Showmanship, they call it, or sportsmanship. I suppose I'm not made for the Olympiads.

Sergeant and Ugly had finished the rest. The noise I made from taking care of the three (I have no excuses but this: it had been eleven years.) weakened them by way of attention diversion. They looked in pain.

"Are you in pain?" I asked. They nodded. "I think Scrivener has a medikit."

"What the fuck? Sergeant said. Given the circumstances, I had to agree. I'd realised my own shortsword was still stuck in one of the extra's spine, and it would probably be chipped. What the fuck indeed.

>>3623770
"What the fuck?"

We all three turned to look at the last bandit, who was in the process of preparing to dry hump Sister.

"He's about to hump Sister!" I shouted.

His hip moved, coming into contact with Sister. The comely sister fucker shivered in revulsion. Or pleasure. I have no insight into the mind of sister fuckers.

"You can come out of this alive, bandit," Sergeant said. He sounded tired more than he was in pain. "We dealt with the rest of your kind. Let him go, and we'll part ways, just like that."

"Gentlemen of the Road?" the Bandit asked. He humped again, making Sister faint.

"Gentlemen of the Road," Sergeant agreed. That was a most ancient pact of bandits, announced when two different rival parties found themselves attacking the same quarry. Ménage à trois were messy things indeed, especially if it involved loot and an unsuspecting party who didn't consent to getting plundered.

They would withdraw, but so would the other side. The prey would not be preyed upon. Everyone would live to see the day again.

"Five minutes," the bandit pleaded. "Come on, man, it's been a week in the woods."

That was about long enough for Hood to recover and put an arrow through the bandit's head.

>I went to see if Sister was alright. He was a brother now, even if he was Sister.

>"Nice shot!" I cheered. Then Hood shot at me.

>I immediately began looting the dead, including those of former brothers.

>>3623777
>>"Nice shot!" I cheered. Then Hood shot at me.

>>3623777
>"Nice shot!" I cheered. Then Hood shot at me.

>>3623777
>>"Nice shot!" I cheered. Then Hood shot at me.
arrow dodging is a useful skill

>>3623778
>>3623779
>>3623783

It was a halfhearted shot, and only pierced my calves. I knew that if she wanted to kill me, she would have gone for the unprotected eye. That is how I knew she was warming up to me. I told Scrivener as much while he patched me up. I didn't believe me.

"Is that how you pick up girls, Aurelius?" the doctor-slash-scribe asked. "Get shot in the leg?"

"Could have been worse. Could have gotten me in the eye."

"It got one of your major arteries," Scrivener said quietly. "I'm sorry, Aurelius. I'll have a talk with Sergeant, but I don't think he wants to have to execute another. Not so soon after losing so many."

"It's alright," I reassured him. "Does that mean I can stay on the wagon while everyone else walks?"

He looked sad. I wondered if Quick was a friend of his. "Yes, Aurelius," he said gently. "You can stay on the carriage."

>>3623786
he didn't believe me*

>>3623786

It would have been a pleasant ride, if it weren't for all the other corpses. Scrivener insisted in it, saying that they were our brothers, they deserved having graves, et cetera ad aeternam. I slept through the journey, and missed most of the scenery.

I woke up with Ugly dumping earth on my face.

"Hey!" I shouted. Ugly dropped his shovel, which was unfortunate, because I was below him. By law of gravity as expounded upon by Marquis Sun, things drop when they are no longer held up. "I'm still alive," I wheezed once I could start breathing again, which was a while. By then, Ugly wasn't above me.

It wasn't long until Scrivener's head popped into sight. "What the fuck? Scrivener said.

"Language!" I told him. Two "What the Fucks" were quite enough for a single day, thank you very much.

"You were dead!" he stuttered. "Your major arteries were ruptured, and we had no replacement blood-"

"Do I look dead?" I inquired.

"No."

"Do I sound dead?"

"No."

I wiggled my toes experimentally, Then my fingers. Last to wiggle was my nose. They all wiggled. "Then," I declared, "I must not be dead."

They hauled me out of the grave with a ten feet pole, and burned the thing afterwards. I thought it was rather wasteful, doing away with such a nice and sturdy staff like that. I was then brought to the Captain, who had apparently been briefed on what occurred during the banditry in the mountains. He sighed, and he looked tired. In that moment, he reminded me of Sergeant.

"Say," I asked, remembering Sergeant and his wounded shoulder. "Where's Sergeant?"

"Infection's gotten to him," Scrivener said solemnly. "Speaking of which, I should attend him."

>I followed. Not like I could do him worse than an infection.

>"Can a man get some food around here? My stomach's so empty, it feels like my grave."

>The excitement today had drained me. I decided to take it easy for the night.

>>3623795
>>I followed. Not like I could do him worse than an infection.

>>3623795
>I followed. Not like I could do him worse than an infection.
Ok so what the ever living shite are we? Because it's clear we're not human, if not completely human.

>>3623795

>I followed. Not like I could do him worse than an infection.
If the archer wasn't executed she better have an awesome apology letter for us.

>>3623795
>"Can a man get some food around here? My stomach's so empty, it feels like my grave."

>>3623795
>I followed. Not like I could do him worse than an infection.

>>3623809
>>3623812
>>3623825
>>3623819
"When I die, I want you to divide my things among what remains of my destroyed platoon," Sergeant said. He was on his bed, feverish, tears falling from the pain as Scrivener tightened the bandage again. "And- oh god, am I dead? I see dead people."

Scrivener and I looked around. There wasn't anyone else in the sick room, because there was no war going on.

"Right beside you, Scrivener," Sergeant said urgently. "A ghost, that's what it is! Here to haunt me for my lack of commanding skills. If I were a better commander, I could have resolved the intra-party disputes..."

He went on like that for a while. I noticed that the arrow that got me in the calves was here, my dried blood still glowing faintly gold on the arrowtip. It was a wonder that Scrivener didn't notice while he was bandaging me, but then again he was half blind.

I carefully undid the bandage while Scrivener went to get hot water, and then pierced the infected shoulder with the bloody arrow. I'd bandaged everything up like normal when Scrivener ran back in, alerted by the screams.

"What happened?" he asked. I shrugged innocently, because I had done no wrong.

Sergeant was greatly taken with brain fever due to his infection. "That god-damned Gold-Eyes!" he screamed. "He stabbed me! He fucking stabbed me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Scrivener said. "He's unarmed."

"My blood burns!" Sergeant groused. That would be my ichor burning through the system, taking out the infection. "My arm! My arm... can move?" he said, opening and clutching his right hand, which had been rendered immobile from the wound.

"Nobody say it," I warned.

"What the fuck." Scrivener and Sergeant said tiredly.

Sergeant checked out of the sick tents an hour later, and was back in our uncomfortably large platoon one. Most of the beds were empty on account of their deaths en route to Company HQ. There was a bit of a scene with Hood shouting that I was a censores agent sent to infiltrate the Company. An Eskhatan like her would know of the secret agents of the Emperor well, seeing as half their island burned from the first (and last) time they rebelled. Come to think of it, those secret agents were supposed to have golden eyes as well. It took a while for Sergeant to calm her down, and even whiler to get her to apologise to me.

>>3623867

"Make sure you get plenty of sleep," Sergeant said before tucking in. "We're finally going on the march tomorrow. Most of you won't survive," he said, before realising he was talking to a mostly empty platoon tent, corrected to "almost all of you won't survive. We have to work together and keep a good head on our shoulders if we are to get over the obstacles presented to us."

And the obstacles were great indeed. Even the Emperor's legionary would have thought twice before going where we were headed.

>The scream-filled deserts of the Goebi, where the first dynasties of Sinae rose and fell.

>The flat plain-steppes of the horselords of Magal.

>The islands-chain of Wae, supposedly guarded by powerful wind spirits.

>The jungles of Nanman, home to poisoners and frog hunters.

>>3623870

>The jungles of Nanman, home to poisoners and frog hunters.
Does our blood deal as well with poisons as it does with infections?

And who is left on the platoon? Us, Ugly, Hood, Sister? Or are there any other Extras not named James?

>>3623870
>>The scream-filled deserts of the Goebi, where the first dynasties of Sinae rose and fell.

>>3623870

>The flat plain-steppes of the horselords of Magal

>>3623870
>>The flat plain-steppes of the horselords of Magal.

>>3623870
>The flat plain-steppes of the horselords of Magal.
Fortuna?

>>3623475
Ahaha are you from the other black company quest? Man i want it to come back.

>>3623404
Oh and op is this having anything to do with the black company quest that was on here befor? Or just its own thing in the same setting?

>>3623870
>The islands-chain of Wae, supposedly guarded by powerful wind spirits.

>>3623980
I think the setting is actually modified real earth, judging by the names.

>>3623879
>Platoon
Replacements will be introduced
>Blood
No, poison will still fuck you up, just not as badly as others

>>3623980
No relation to the excellent Black Company Quest run before, I'm flattered anyone even considered for a second that this had anything to do with that. Quality-wise, this is not going to reach your expectation if you are thinking of that quest from before. I was bored while internet was down and started writing something sorta based on my quest's setting, and then this abomination came out.

Then people actually voted for things, and here we are.

The setting is kinda-sorta Commentarii setting set ages later. Some things are intentionally kept ambiguous.

"Tell me, Brother Aurelius. Are you a man of god?"

"After a fashion," I replied. Discussing the intricacies of religion was my second favourite thing to do, after drinking warmed posca tiredly in between tender lovemaking with young married women. There is a lie in the previous sentence.

I've been told that I am a habitual liar. That is why I can say with absolute certainty that religion is a useful thing. The Imperial Cult was one I found a lot of use for, though like all religions, the Cult degenerated after the founding prophet, the Emperor, disappeared.

Dead, some said. Found bleeding his precious golden ichor from the marbled steps of Xuchang. The entire Cao Clan was put to the sword after that, because Xuchang happened to be their illustrious family's domain. I felt rather bad for the Caos. The Simas were probably behind that, as usual. They never found the Emperor's body.

"I make sure to thank the gods every day," the ugliest brother in black I had in the world grinned, splitting his gaping wound of a mouth to a friendly smile. For all the horrors his visage could conjure, he was actually a decent guy. I did say there would be an ironic contrast between the inside and out.

"For the little joys, you see. That I am still alive, and able to give thanks for the fresh air, the clean food, and water that does not burn my intestines when drunk." Theophilos (who I had taken to calling Ugly until I found out what his name was three months later) rumbled. He had been badly mistreated as a child, which apparently included torture. I didn't ask for details. He volunteered them anyway, especially when he was feeling thankful. "...that I have someone to speak to, who does not run away from the first look of my face."

"We're brothers in that regard, at least." My golden eyes were something that made me a social pariah in most Sinaean circles. I don't like to talk about it. "How do you feel about the Imperial Cult?" I asked. I was personally a fan, for personal reasons.

>>3624010

"Oh, blessed one!" Theophilos intoned. "Pacifier of the Four Cardinal Directions! Inheritor of the Mantle of Responsibility! Chief among Gods!" He went on for a while, going through the Ten Thousand And One Names. By the fifty fourth, I realised that he was not going to stop until he went through all of them up to "Omega", and turned my eyes back to the pool we were supposed to be watching.

This was a Magal tribe's hotspot, where they came every few months when summer returned to the usually grey steppes. Life briefly flourished here in greens and yellows when rare warmth touched the lands, and with grasses came horses.

Where horses ride, a Magal is not far behind. That's an old Sinaean proverb, though I suspect "Magal" was substituted with "Mongol" back in those days when it was first uttered.

Eventually a tribe of the horse people arrived to replenish their water. Actually, it would be too grandiose to call it a tribe. Maybe a clan? It was bigger than a family, anyway. "That's the quarry," I told Theophilos. "We should return." I had no wish to face twenty wild riders with just Theophilos. His face could launch a thousand ships away from him, but the Magal were fearless.

"Our orders have been fulfilled," Theophilos agreed. We turned around to start the long trek back to camp. Our camoflage was hopefully going to obscure us while we crawl-stalked the flat plains. I was not looking forward to it, but it was better than being out here without posca or hot chocolate.

Something tingled my left earlobe. Telltale sign of magic, that. A tribe that small didn't have any shamans, surely?

>I stayed put. If there was no shaman after all, I would be shish kabob'd with Magal arrows.

>I immediately took off to a run. If I was right, then I would have survived another second. And -then- I would be shish kabob'd with Magal arrows.

>>3623993
Man good thing Forgotten recommend this, I can't wait to achieve great things at great personal/Squad costs

>>3624020

>I stayed put. If there was no shaman after all, I would be shish kabob'd with Magal arrows.

>>3624010
>>3624020
Some heavy hints on who we are in those posts

>I stayed put. If there was no shaman after all, I would be shish kabob'd with Magal arrows.

>>3624020

>I stayed put. If there was no shaman after all, I would be shish kabob'd with Magal arrows.

>>3624066
The dead emperor? Or maybe a descendant?

>>3624063
>>3624066
>>3624076

I put my faith in probability and reason. Shamans weren't a dime a dozen, like all ensorceled individuals. They were more like one in ten thousand, or hundred thousand. I do not have the data to say either way, but what is important is that they are very rare. The Company itself only had five wizards in its employ, and we were considered one of the elite, barring the legions themselves.

And the legions were mostly gone from the world. After the Emperor disappeared, some Parthian madman named Ariamnes decided to look for him in the West, taking with him most of the Emperor-founded legions. The ones that were founded after... well, they make decent garrison troops, I'll give them that.

A moment passed, then another. No fireballs appeared, nor did buzzing ball of giant wasps. I sighed in relief. The crawling began in earnest. I ate dust and grass like a horse, but at least I wasn't dead.

When I returned, I found reason to distrust reason.

"You were being scried," Dumpling said, dispelling something invisible with intricate fingerwork. "They know we were waiting for them, now."

"It's not like I could cast wizardry on them back," I protested. "They were a tiny tribe. How would they have a shaman?" It was cheating. Unfair. No, not fair at all.

"What's done is done," Dumpling said. Ever the pragmatist, our Dumpling. The only time I saw her facade crumple with emotion was when her third sister - triplets, they were - died in the Burning of Luoyang. That city seems to burn with the regularity of a water clock. I know that metaphor did not make sense, but I did warn you that I was not born a poet.

The Captain glowered on her mobile throne, a rickety skull-and-bones affair that made her look more cartoonishly evil than foreboding. Not that anyone would have the guts to tell her, because she was foreboding in person. "This is worrying," she grated. Everything was worrying to her. Or disturbing. Yes, that was a favourite of hers. "Aurelius is right," she said, making me blush before averting my gaze, "it's improbable that such a small clan has a shaman among them."

>>3624135

"Scouts for a bigger horde?" Lieutenant suggested. Now there was a terrifying man if I ever saw one. Six feet tall and then some, with glowing, rune-embossed swords (in the plural), he went around encased in matte black armour. Because shining things make night operations difficult, of course. "Our client was worried about such a thing happening."

Gods. I near watered the fountain then and there. Magals were bad enough in their usual kin-groups. They were closely in touch with their western cousins, which gave them access to metal weapons and armour that could compare favourably against Sinaean steel. I tried not to imagine those iron-shod horsehooves running wild over my crumbling body. Then I did.

I suddenly wished we were anywhere but here. The screaming deserts of the Goebi, maybe, or the poison-infested jungles of Nanman. Even the kase kami protected islands of Wae seemed a better prospect of invasion. Against the horse people, there is no offense, only defense.

>"We should cut our losses and run to the wind," I wisely suggested.

>"I have a bad feeling about this," I muttered. Have I mentioned that I am usually right?

>"I don't suppose our patron is sending a legion our way." I could hope.

>>3624118
We are actually kid's descedant. The archer lady was pregnant all this time and we are the last remant of Kid lineage

>>3624136
>"I have a bad feeling about this," I muttered. Have I mentioned that I am usually right?

>>3624136

>"I don't suppose our patron is sending a legion our way." I could hope.

>>3624136
>>"I don't suppose our patron is sending a legion our way." I could hope.

>>3624162
I though Ugly was supposed to be the one in the group with positive thinking.

>>3624136
>"I don't suppose our patron is sending a legion our way." I could hope.

>>3624162
>>3624169
>"I don't suppose our patron is sending a legion our way." I could hope.

"I didn't know Theophilos got so much handsomer," Captain remarked drily, which would have made my heart flutter under ordinary circumstances. That it didn't spoke to the level of madness we were facing. A fully mobilised Magal horde, united under one banner!

"We do have a legion coming our way," Lieutenant growled. He wasn't particularly angry. That was just how he talked. "The 13th, looks like. Not one of the True Imperials, but it's something."

I sighed. It was something indeed. But it would have been a daunting task even with an Emperor-founded legion.

"They were founded two weeks ago," Lieutenant said after a treacherous pause.

"I don't need to hear this," I groaned. I really didn't. I was not an officer, just one of the junior Scriveners of the Company. I was going to be a full one soon, what with the death of Scrivener (half-blind one), but I wasn't yet. Why was I sent for? I asked them that.

"Because we need someone to keep the records," Lieutenant said.

"Because I prefer handsome young men to decrepit old ones," Captain said in that chilling sweet voice of hers. Lieutenant glowered at me. I made a note not to cross ways with him for a week.

"I think it is time our junior Scrivener was excused," Lieutenant said, though more like an order than a suggestion. "Battle plans are for our ears only."

That suited me just fine. I wasn't interested in the overall picture. The broad strokes terrified me to bits already. When orders eventually trickled down the ranks, I was eating dinner with the rest of my platoon.

>I was sitting beside Sister. My politeness, it is an affliction. I could not keep the sister fucker away, no matter how politely I requested him to keep his distance.

>I was eating out of one plate with Honey. She was a sweet little thing we picked up from Vale, a mute girl who followed me like a father. It warmed my heart to know I was being fatherlike to someone in the world, UNLIKE A CERTAIN FATHER WHO DIED FROM A HORSE FALL.

>Sandwiching me were Dumpling and Morion, the formerly triplet wizards. It's best to make friends with a wizard than an enemy. Ask anyone.

>>3624170
Maybe, but I don't want to curse us by saying that we have a bad feeling.


>Sandwiching me were Dumpling and Morion, the formerly triplet wizards. It's best to make friends with a wizard than an enemy. Ask anyone.

Get on the wizard's good side

>>3624218
>Maybe, but I don't want to curse us by saying that we have a bad feeling.
QM TRAP: DODGED

>>3624216
>Sandwiching me were Dumpling and Morion, the formerly triplet wizards. It's best to make friends with a wizard than an enemy. Ask anyone.
I ALSO PUT ON MY ROBE AND WIZARD HAT!

>>3624216
>I was eating out of one plate with Honey. She was a sweet little thing we picked up from Vale, a mute girl who followed me like a father. It warmed my heart to know I was being fatherlike to someone in the world, UNLIKE A CERTAIN FATHER WHO DIED FROM A HORSE FALL.

>>3624216
>>I was eating out of one plate with Honey. She was a sweet little thing we picked up from Vale, a mute girl who followed me like a father. It warmed my heart to know I was being fatherlike to someone in the world, UNLIKE A CERTAIN FATHER WHO DIED FROM A HORSE FALL.
>>Sandwiching me were Dumpling and Morion, the formerly triplet wizards. It's best to make friends with a wizard than an enemy. Ask anyone.

can Honey be with us along with the wizards? it will probably prevent them from telling us to screw ourselves

if no just stick by the wizards, if they like us enough they won't blow us appart

>>3624216
>I was eating out of one plate with Honey. She was a sweet little thing we picked up from Vale, a mute girl who followed me like a father. It warmed my heart to know I was being fatherlike to someone in the world, UNLIKE A CERTAIN FATHER WHO DIED FROM A HORSE FALL.

>>3624218
>>3624223


With our luck the wizards willw ant to experiment with our blood or something.

>Twins and Honey

"Here comes the plane!" Honey shouted. I have no idea what she does that. A plane does not just come. A plane is a flat thing, and once moved, stops being a plane. Maybe a squiggly line. I indulged her anyway. It was bad enough being an orphan, she didn't need her foster caretaker to dash her imagination too.

"Here comes the plane," I agreed. The spoonful of Company rations, unpalatable at the best of times, was to Honey the nectar of the gods. Gods, I really am bad at metaphor.

"Mmm!" she mumbled. Poor thing. I'd found her halfway dead from starvation.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I admonished. Beside her were Dumpling and Morion, the wizard ex-triplets. They liked Honey too. I think everyone in our platoon did.

Our platoon was a bit of an oddity, mostly riffraff we picked up from our three month journey to the north, including yours truly. There was a lot of infighting going on in the Imperial prefectures now that the Emperor was out of the picture. That wouldn't have spelled doom for the Empire, but Ariamnes just had to take most of the Emperor-founded legions and go west on a wild goose chase. As one of the Immortals, he could have taken the Imperial seat just as well as anyone.

The resulting power vacuum didn't cause the Empire to collapse overnight, the governors and prefects still fearful of Ariamnes' return. But as months turned to years, they grew more lax, more and more openly taking power for themselves. But never sending their precious legions, oh no. Legion fighting legion would create a public relations so catastrophic that everyone who holds power would be pulled under the resulting political fallout.

Enter the free companies. We do the dirty job, because somebody has to.

Actually I'm not sure about that last part, but somebody does do the dirty job. And that amounts to the same thing. And besides, we pick up the survivors who can fight, and sometimes the survivors who can't fight, like Honey. We aren't all bad.

There was Dumpling and Morion, as mentioned before, and also Theophilos ("Ugly"), Hood who still swore up and down she got my major arteries (and I equally swore she didn't), Sister. There was also Trevain, who like some posh aristocrat elected to use his own name, though none of us knew who he was. He reminded me of Quick, but he used a shortsword, so he was slightly better. Raindrops was the obligatory black market contact any self-respecting platoon had. I kept Honey away from that one. Not because Raindrops was into children, mind, but I didn't want her to get infected with the seediness of that man.

>>3624267

And there was Sergeant. He was the kind of man anyone would like, if it weren't for his crippling self-doubt stemming from certain issues with paternal figures in his past. He would never admit it, of course. No soldier ever does. It's an epidemic, really.

"No it isn't," Sergeant protested. "Have you considered that you might actually be projecting your own insecurities?"

I asked where Sergeant found those words, in that precise order. He refused to tell me.

"Anyway, we have our orders," Sergeant said. "I need two volunteers to make contact with the Magal."

>"Well, looks like it's time for my daily Scrivener meeting. Good luck, folks!" [Slip out and away]

>"It would be a shame if Honey were to be orphaned a second time." What can I say, I have no compunction when it comes to preserving my own life. [Guilt trip]

>>3623993
Ok i was mostly asking becouse of the title and how it started out,
I mean its looking fine so far keep it up.

>>3624270
>"Well, looks like it's time for my daily Scrivener meeting. Good luck, folks!" [Slip out and away]

>>3624270
>time for my daily Scrivener meeting
Why find excuses when they are provided to you?

>>3624270
>"Well, looks like it's time for my daily Scrivener meeting. Good lu- ah what the hell, why bother, you are sending me right? fuck

>>3624270
>"It would be a shame if Honey were to be orphaned a second time." What can I say, I have no compunction when it comes to preserving my own life. [Guilt trip]

I'm sure Hood would happily raise our adopted child.

>>3624287
This was supposed to be a oneshot. Now I'm not so sure.

>>3624300
Put a coin in the curse jar trooper. no cursing with Honey in the company. We need to show a better example then that stupid man that died falling from a horse.

>>3624267

>"Well, looks like it's time for my daily Scrivener meeting. Good luck, folks!" [Slip out and away]

Tell Marion and Dumpling to look after Honey for us when he innevitably volunteers us because we speak some languages

>>3624310
Dew eeet!!

>>3624270
>"Well, looks like it's time for my daily Scrivener meeting. Good luck, folks!" [Slip out and away]
>>3624310
Oh no

>>3624315
Not just that from all the scribes we are the most likely to survive if the Magals decide to kill the negotiator

>>3624324
>>3624315
>>3624304
>>3624288
>"Well, looks like it's time for my daily Scrivener meeting. Good luck, folks!" [Slip out and away]

"There is no such thing," Sergeant scowled.

"How do you know?" I countered. "Who's the Scrivener here, me, or you?"

"You've never gone to any of their meetings."

"More reason to go now, then. Imagine all the piled up scrolls to sort. Oh, woe is me."

"Even if it does exist, you were specifically requested," Sergeant lifted a piece of paper scribbled in the infernal handwriting of Lieutenant. My heart sank. I think Lieutenant had something against golden eyes. I said as much.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's everyone who has problems with your kind," Hood said viciously. She still hadn't gotten over the rape and ravaging of half her island.

"Please don't fight again," Sergeant said pleadingly. "And no, it's not because you have gold eyes. It's because you speak Parthian." Damned horse people speak. I knew I should have not bothered to pay attention in the schola.

"Poor Honey," Dumpling said soothingly.

"We'll take care of the sweetling," Morion added. The two wizard twins blew their noses out of their 'kerchiefs in unerring sync in mock sadness, waving them at me as if I were a soldier going to the front. Which is a patently ridiculous comparison. Men going to the front had it better - they had other soldiers to fall back on to.

I didn't have anyone.

"Well, you have me, Brother Aurelius," Theophilos said warmly while we were staking out the same damned hole. Of course he had been the only one to volunteer. This time, though, Dumpling was forced to come. Sergeant wanted a wizard in hand to ward off enemy shamans. She wasn't very happy, which was why there was steam blowing out of her nose now.

The three of us looked like badly rotten turnips from a distance. This nameless land really was too flat.

"Contact," Dumpling whispered. "I don't think it's a shaman."

My earlobe tingled.

"Nevermind," Dumpling said. "That's the same scrying spell." It stopped tingling as Dumpling repeated the same finger gestures from before. "Engage?"

Why was it that I became the commander when I had to make the tough choices, and not during the picking of volunteers?

>"...Charge?" We were supposed to speak with them. I hoped they were in a talkative mood.

>"Maybe we should stand up and wave at him," I suggested. The open air really does something to your brain, one of its effects being unreasonable optimism.

>"Can you nuke the enemy shaman with your magical thingummywut?" I didn't have the clearest idea of what magickery constituted.

>>3624376
No wait they could rather use arrows..fuck.

>>3624353
>>"Maybe we should stand up and wave at him," I suggested. The open air really does something to your brain, one of its effects being unreasonable optimism.

be ready to nuke them please Dumpling

>>3624353
Go there and talk with them

I get tha Hood is still a little bit mad kek, we should use Honey to sweeten her

>>3624389
They know we have a mage if anything the first to get a arrow to the face will be Dumpling.

>>3624397
ok, then this?>>3624394

>>3624353
Guess it's this then:>>3624394

>>3624270
>"It would be a shame if Honey were to be orphaned a second time." What can I say, I have no compunction when it comes to preserving my own life. [Guilt trip]

>>3624353
>"Maybe we should stand up and wave at him," I suggested. The open air really does something to your brain, one of its effects being unreasonable optimism.

>>3624353

>"...Charge?" We were supposed to speak with them. I hoped they were in a talkative mood.
Activate Interrogation Mode.

>>3624892
i though we were talking not punching him.

>>3624353
>"Maybe we should stand up and wave at him," I suggested. The open air really does something to your brain, one of its effects being unreasonable optimism.

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>Go There And Talk To Them

I expected to be shot at from one of their recurve bows. Every step of the way was a surprise. The rider was alone, his compatriots not in the immediate line of sight. In Magal country, that means as far as the end of the earth.

The shaman was alone.

"Ohh, I don't like-"

"Don't even think of finishing that sentence," Dumpling said. I finished the sentence in my head.

When we were in shouting range, I gave him the traditional greeting ("May your horse herds be ever plentiful" and that kind of culturally specific stuff), surprising the hell out of the Magal rider. I don't think he expected any Sinaean, or Imperial for that matter, to know Old Parthian. The rider answered back politely, and there was my second surprise for the day, the first being of course that I wasn't shot while approaching the rider.

The shaman was a girl.

"Well of course she's a girl," Dumpling said. "Can't you tell from the way she paid attention to her horse's hair?"

Equine dressage is hardly my area of expertise. My ancestors were famously terrible at cavalry. I asked her if her tribe might be interested in a "candid exchange of information". She said that we were all going to die.

"I think we're off to a good start."

"Shut up, Theophilos. I am thinking." I didn't want to die.

"Why are we going to die?" I asked, or at least the closest equivalent. Old Parthian is filled with horse puns, which I dare not put to ink. They're kind of kinky ones too, more often than not. That was one of the two reasons I rare put Old Parthian to use.

"There is a storm of horses coming," she replied. "My family is not a part of it, and this is why we flee south. You must do it too, golden eyed one. All will perish, those who resist the Horde."

Apparently Magal were pretty superstitious too, but in the other direction. She didn't mind my eyes. She seemed to like it. Or maybe that's just my self-inflated ego talking. I thought Hood liked me too, after she shot me.

>I invited the shaman rider to "milk our horses together". That was an offering to share a drink, and have a talk. Nothing lewd, I promise.

>I decided to skeddadle. I'd heard enough, and the primary mission objective - "go talk to a Magal" - was finished. Not even a good lay with the Captain could convince me that staying a single moment longer in this godforsaken plain was a good idea.

>>3625589
>I decided to skeddadle. I'd heard enough, and the primary mission objective - "go talk to a Magal" - was finished. Not even a good lay with the Captain could convince me that staying a single moment longer in this godforsaken plain was a good idea.

Done and done.

>>3625589
>I invited the shaman rider to "milk our horses together". That was an offering to share a drink, and have a talk. Nothing lewd, I promise.

Knowing were the horde is comming from would be nice. Would allow us to pick the terrain and what not.

>>3625621
More info is usualy good specialy since we won't be able to retreat.

>>3623740
>My father died from falling from a horse, I think. It is hard to remember.
And here I thought that I our father died while putting on a shoe.

This reads like Commentarii of the Good Black Company trooper Aurelius. Thoroughly entertaining, Τύχη! Even if it is just a oneshot.

I wonder what the contract is. Is the Black company tasked with stopping the horde?

>>3625589
>I invited the shaman rider to "milk our horses together". That was an offering to share a drink, and have a talk. Nothing lewd, I promise.

>I invited the shaman rider to "milk our horses together". That was an offering to share a drink, and have a talk. Nothing lewd, I promise.

At least, that was the intent. Dumpling threw murder-glares at me as the shamaness started erecting her yurt, then and there. She was clearly angry that I wanted to talk to her more. I kicked myself too, mentally. It was dangerous to dally for long, even if there weren't a Magal tribe in sight.

Her practiced hands raised the fabric in a flash. Satisfied with the state of the stiff poles' plantation, she beckoned us in.

The Magal are a people always on the move, and even loners travel with a small herd of horses who carry materials for their simple tents. They make good windshields. It is customary for the Magal to invite guests in if their conversations are going to be longer than a sneeze. The winds are strong in this place, and already my nose was feeling numb.

A lone woman inviting in foreign men, however, can be interpreted in a wildly different manner. I tried not to think about stories of Magal outriders abducting men to use as the shamaness brought the three of us in her tent. Dumpling suddenly latched onto my arm for reasons unknown. I was in heaven. Then Theophilos latched himself on to me as well, mistakenly interpreting the act as a sign of welcoming physical intimacies. That returned me to planet earth.

The Rite of Milk Exchange conducted (I'd brought a canister of our goatmilk, just in case), we sat on the carpeted floor while cradling our cups of warm horse milk. The Shamaness was looking at me expectantly. Now that we were indoors, she had discarded most of her windbreaker robes, and I realised with a heart-flutter that she was the sort of girl I wouldn't mind showing to my mother. My father could go fuck himself.

>"We're supposed to stop the Horde," I began. It wasn't as if she couldn't read my mind, anyway. "I was hoping to find out any possible weakness to the Khaganate, if any."

>"You're very pretty." Women make fools out of the best of us.

>>3625855
>>"We're supposed to stop the Horde," I began. It wasn't as if she couldn't read my mind, anyway. "I was hoping to find out any possible weakness to the Khaganate, if any."

>>3625855
>"We're supposed to stop the Horde," I began. It wasn't as if she couldn't read my mind, anyway. "I was hoping to find out any possible weakness to the Khaganate, if any."
We're not that thirsty!

>>3625858
Ditto

>>3625855
>>"We're supposed to stop the Horde," I began. It wasn't as if she couldn't read my mind, anyway. "I was hoping to find out any possible weakness to the Khaganate, if any."

>>3625886
>>3625874
>>3625876
>>3625858
>"We're supposed to stop the Horde," I began. It wasn't as if she couldn't read my mind, anyway. "I was hoping to find out any possible weakness to the Khaganate, if any."

She nodded. She wasn't very fond of the Khaganate, either. Her pretty face scrunched up to a scowl as she started talking animatedly about the brutality with which the Khagan was rounding up the other tribes to forge the Horde. It explained the tiny size of her own tribe. She seemed to feel strongly about the new Khagan's regime, as if her own parents were killed by the Khaganate.

"My parents were killed while resisting the Khaganate," she said. That explained a lot.

"What are you two talking about?" Dumpling asked, her face uncomfortably close. She was still hugging my right arm. It was nice.

"We would like to hear what has transpired from your conversation," Theophilos said, his face dreadfully close. He was still latched onto my left arm. I felt sick.

"Her own tribe suffered from the growing Horde," I told them as I shook both of my brothers off my appendages. "They are massing in force, mostly focused in the north. It sounds like it's only a matter of time until the Khagan completes his tribal collection and unifies the Magal."

"That's terrible," Theophilos cried when I told him about her parents. As an orphan himself, he had a lot of sympathies for other orphans. "We should tell them to stick with us, Brother Aurelius. It's better to stick together against adversity, than it is to scatter in the face of the enemy. The Company can take care of her tribe."

I doubted that. The Company was not in the habit of caring for anyone but themselves.

"The brothers are good people. They'll understand we need to care for the refugees," Theophilos insisted. Dumpling and I laughed, until we realised he was being serious.

"Why do you laugh?" the Shamaness inquired. Her eyes glowed softly under the yurt's lamplight.

>"I would like to offer you the chance to join my herd, thereby ensuring your own safety from the wolves-that-prowl," I told her. I was, in fact, offering refuge from a more selfish reason. Ensorcelled are a rare resource. The Company could always use another wizard, or shaman as the case happened to be.

>I wasn't as hard-hearted a bastard I thought I was. I told her to leave south in haste. If she stuck around, there was going to be nothing but blood and death for her and her tribe.

>>3625855

>"We're supposed to stop the Horde," I began. It wasn't as if she couldn't read my mind, anyway. "I was hoping to find out any possible weakness to the Khaganate, if any."

Shake off Ugly, keep Dumpling attached so our planet gets better, it seems the wizard is jealous.

>>3625903
>"I would like to offer you the chance to join my herd, thereby ensuring your own safety from the wolves-that-prowl," I told her. I was, in fact, offering refuge from a more selfish reason. Ensorcelled are a rare resource. The Company could always use another wizard, or shaman as the case happened to be.

>>3625903
>>I wasn't as hard-hearted a bastard I thought I was. I told her to leave south in haste. If she stuck around, there was going to be nothing but blood and death for her and her tribe.

>>3625903
>>"I would like to offer you the chance to join my herd, thereby ensuring your own safety from the wolves-that-prowl," I told her. I was, in fact, offering refuge from a more selfish reason. Ensorcelled are a rare resource. The Company could always use another wizard, or shaman as the case happened to be.

but make sure to tell her that if they accept they are expected to help, and that we will face the horde, if she wants safety she has to continue fleeing

>>3625855
>"You're very pretty." Women make fools out of the best of us.

>>3625916
>but make sure to tell her that if they accept they are expected to help, and that we will face the horde, if she wants safety she has to continue fleeing
I like this.

>>3625903
>"I would like to offer you the chance to join my herd, thereby ensuring your own safety from the wolves-that-prowl," I told her. I was, in fact, offering refuge from a more selfish reason. Ensorcelled are a rare resource. The Company could always use another wizard, or shaman as the case happened to be.

>>3625913
>>3625916
>>3625927
>>3625929
>"I would like to offer you the chance to join my herd, thereby ensuring your own safety from the wolves-that-prowl," I told her. I was, in fact, offering refuge from a more selfish reason. Ensorcelled are a rare resource. The Company could always use another wizard, or shaman as the case happened to be.

"How big is the herd?" She asked. "How large are their horses, how virile the studs? Do the mares cry or stay silent in birthing? Do they sire many foals?" The linguists of Old Parthia must have been centaurs.

"The herd is small, but choice," I replied. "Our horses are large, with energetic studs. Even the mares stay silent in the painful birthing. Ours is a herd of many foals." To wit: the Company was not very numerous, but powerful, with trained and armed individuals to drive its rivals away. We were used to pains and sorrows of life, which we accepted with glum silence (well not quite true, I always complain. But then again, I am a habitual liar.), and our Company was one that had a great number of new blood flowing in all the time.

I hesitated. "But do not swear the oath when entering the grazing field," I told her. I didn't want to chain her and her people to a life of serving the Black Company. She had to be given the freedom to run away if the situation went to shit, which it usually does. Aurelius, you incorrigible romantic.

"My tribe will be interested," she declared. Her tribe? I guess the fact that she was a shamaness gave her a large voice in the running of the tribal governance. "But the elders will ask a gifting of horses." That was a kind of short-term hostage-taking that the Magal practiced when making difficult diplomatic choices. It was supposed to ensure that the other side wasn't going to renege on the deal.

"Sure," I told her. "You can take Theophilos."

She shook her head, and with a slight smile, laid her hand on mine. Things were a blur after that. The air vibrated with magic, a surprised gasp from Shamaness, and then Dumpling punched me.

>>3625978
>>I tried to see if the bind was secure. No harm in trying.

>>3625970

When I came to, Theophilos was carrying me. I screamed. "You were knocked out cold," Theophilos told me, eventually, after I'd calmed down. "Dumpling was being unreasonable," he said. I agreed. "She volunteered to go as the hostage."

I found that disagreeable. When you only have five Ensorcelled, losing one, even if only temporary, is a huge blow. I was going to get chewed out by Lieutenant for this.

>"Take me back," I told Theophilos. I had to be the hostage. Dumpling was too valuable.

>I resigned myself to latrine duty for the next two weeks. "I hope Dumpling likes horse dumplings," I murmured.

>>3625978
>I tried to see if the bind was secure. No harm in trying.


Dumpling is based protective tsun but what the hell is this?

>>3625981
>>"Take me back," I told Theophilos. I had to be the hostage. Dumpling was too valuable.

but actually, Ugly will be the hostage

>>3625985
Ditto

>>3625981
>>"Take me back," I told Theophilos. I had to be the hostage. Dumpling was too valuable.

>>3625981
>>"Take me back," I told Theophilos. I had to be the hostage. Dumpling was too valuable.
Lets save the demsel from horse dumplings like the goddamn romantic we are. Shit.

>>3625981
>"Take me back," I told Theophilos. I had to be the hostage. Dumpling was too valuable.

>>3626004
>>3626001
>>3625988
>>3625985
>"Take me back," I told Theophilos. I had to be the hostage. Dumpling was too valuable.

I have a fondness for Magal dumplings. The horse people know how to eat meat, in contrast to the nearly vegetarian Sinaeans, who can only afford pleasures of the flesh (culinarily speaking) on special occasions. I was actually looking forward to having some of their food while relaxing in their yurts, given the treatment of political hostages.

It would have also helped me stay out of Lieutenant's sight. Captain liked to bully me by showing faux favouritism, which riled Lieutenant to no end. And since he couldn't talk back against Captain, he would inevitably send me on dangerous missions. Women.

I didn't know why Dumpling punched me. There was no magic when Shamaness held my hand. Nothing arcane, at least. I wasn't eager to go face to face with Dumpling so soon after her attack against my person, but it was a duty, nay, my responsibility, to see her back to the Company safe.

Theophilos, on realising the merits of my multi-pronged arguments, carried me back to the yurt, which was in the process of being dismantled by Shamaness. She looked surprised to see us return so soon. Dumpling had her back turned on us.

I explained to Shamaness that Dumpling was Ensorcelled and too valuable to send as a hostage.

>Instead, I offered my body.

>I begged her to take Theophilos.

>>3626012

>I begged her to take Theophilos

>>3626012
>>Instead, I offered my body.

>>3626012
>Instead, I offered my body.

>>3626012
>>Instead, I offered my body.
>>3626012

>>3626012
>Instead, I offered my body.
Its totally because we can speak her language, right?

>>3626012
>>Instead, I offered my body.

>>3626012
>>I begged her to take Theophilos

>>3626025
>>3626041
>>3626042
>>3626044
>>3626049
>Instead, I offered my body.

She blushed, making me mentally go over my words. I had told her that Dumpling was too valuable. Then I said, "Take my horse." Euphemism, you understand. Old Parthian revolved around horses and livestock and such things as a language.

Perhaps I am rusty in Old Parthian. I had very few people to speak it with while I lay low in the southernlands of Sinae. Jian'an. Houguan. Nanhai. These horse-poor provinces lack speakers of the tongue. I didn't think there was anything off with what I said.

Dumpling disagreed. "What the hell did you tell her?" she asked, grabbing me by my ears. "She's lighting up like a Saturnalian celebration tree!" I told her. She reddened, and stomped away in a huff.

"Let's go, Theophilos. Aurelius wants to be with his girlfriend," she said. "Too valuable," she muttered, thinking I couldn't hear. What she didn't know is that I was very good at listening. People often came to me to spin their tales of woe and offload their mind. They were always happy to find an appreciative audience who didn't interrupt them. Then again, she is a mind-reading wizard. Maybe she did know I could hear. But why would she mumble with such low volume if she wanted me to hear?

Women. I will never understand them.

Theophilos waved his goodbyes, promising to help taking care of Honey. I smiled at that. Honey was one of the few people who accepted Theophilos without batting an eye from his horrendous face. She had seen worse. I stopped smiling.

>>3626071

"Tell me a story," Shamaness said. We were tucked into our separate sheepskin bedsheets. The wind was at it outside, howling like a Nanman leopard. I hoped Theophilos and Dumpling were snugly wrapped in their own tents. "Tell me of the lands you have seen."

I shuffled in my comfortable bedding to face her. She did the same. "There are islands, divinely protected by mad spirits, that foreigners can barely come to trade or make war against them," I whispered. My voice sounded louder than it actually was within the yurt, even with al the caterwauling the wind was making. "I have seen deserts where the dead-yet-not moan against the scraping sands that bother their gaping mouths, shutting up each winter when snow eases their pain."

She listened with a sombre face. I think she wanted to know more about a land other than hers, to feel that there was some small mercies and kindnesses in the world somewhere. I switched the tone.

"I have been to the edge of the Nanman jungles, where the most beautiful flowers bloom, aided by the plentiful water and eternal warmth." That got her attention. I described it to her, how it opened its petals to the first light of day, and closed once more as the sun winked out. The giant insects who scuttle and buzz around the prehistoric jungle-forests, painting the air green and yellow with pollen. How the dazzling array of colours from a hundred thousand different competing plants flowering to spread their seed made men go mad from the sensory overload.

I had woven the story to a macabre end. It is hard to tell her of kindnesses and mercies when there are none to be found.

"You can't have only warm days," she giggled. "And flowers the size of a horse head? I knew you were a liar, Aurelius, but now I see you are a romantic liar."

The darkness hid my smile as I protested her accusation vigorously. They were quite real, if slightly exaggerated. In truth, the men went mad because the pollen was poisonous, not because of the amount of colours in their eyes. But much of the things from Nanman can sound ridiculous, even impossible. All I will say is this: if you do not believe me, go there yourself.

"Tell me about yourself," she said, after a while.

>>3626073

>"I'm not telling you my True Name." I'd heard all about the things wizards could do with your True Name. I was confident that she couldn't get it out of my brain with her mind reading skills, too. I had no idea what it was.

>"I come from a long and storied line of liars. My father was a horseman who could not ride a horse, my grandfather a minister who never sat down long enough to administrate, and my great-grandfather..." the less said of him, the better.

>"What can I say about myself? I had an unprepossessing childhood. I was slotted into the cursus honorum, even as I was married off to a woman I barely knew. Then some scandal happened just as I was growing to love her and her I, forcing me to a divorce I never wanted." The words tumbled out of me, bare in detail as they were. I didn't meet Shamaness' eyes.

>>3626076

>"I come from a long and storied line of liars. My father was a horseman who could not ride a horse, my grandfather a minister who never sat down long enough to administrate, and my great-grandfather..." the less said of him, the better.

Let's embarrass father in front of the people that can actually ride horses.

Poor dumpling doesn't know if she is jealous because we stayed or if she is flattered because we said she was too valuable

>>3626073
>"I come from a long and storied line of liars. My father was a horseman who could not ride a horse, my grandfather a minister who never sat down long enough to administrate, and my great-grandfather..." the less said of him, the better.

>>3626076
>"I come from a long and storied line of liars. My father was a horseman who could not ride a horse, my grandfather a minister who never sat down long enough to administrate, and my great-grandfather..." the less said of him, the better.

>>3626076
>>"What can I say about myself? I had an unprepossessing childhood. I was slotted into the cursus honorum, even as I was married off to a woman I barely knew. Then some scandal happened just as I was growing to love her and her I, forcing me to a divorce I never wanted." The words tumbled out of me, bare in detail as they were. I didn't meet Shamaness' eyes.

>>3626091
>>3626087
>>3626083
>"I come from a long and storied line of liars. My father was a horseman who could not ride a horse, my grandfather a minister who never sat down long enough to administrate, and my great-grandfather..." the less said of him, the better.

"You are a funny man, Aurelius," she laughed. "Most of the men I know try to up-play their ancestry. They think that the achievements of their fathers give them authority and power."

"The more fool they," I replied. "Though I hope that is not true, for other reasons. For one, my father was not much of a man."

"Why do you refrain from talking ill of your grandfather?" she asked. "You were fine with dismissing your father and grandfather." Curiosity had peaked in her. I didn't notice the warning signs, the sparkle in her eyes, the slight tremble on her lips. It was dark, and there was no light. It was long past midnight by my reckoning. We were supposed to be asleep.

"I did say the less said of him, the better," I answered. "That's not exactly high praise."

"But you also don't mention specific ills of him," she pointed out. Damn. She had me there. I tried not to think of my great-grandfather. I told her that.

"Why?"

The eternal question. Why is the sky blue? Why do men kill? Why do the gods watch us play out our miserable lives? Why is the greatest syllable in the known world. It stumps the wisest man under its repetitive blows.

"Good night, Shamaness." I abruptly turned away from her. I heard a sharp intake of breath. She thought she had offended me, maybe. She was half right.

"Good night, Aurelius," she whispered softly at my back. She didn't quibble at the name I had used.

The next morning was markedly less windy. We packed the yurt and loaded the horses, one of which she lent me for riding purposes. The Magal are always on the move. That means their main source of food is gained through bartering, milking, or butchering. This one had been marked to be turned into meat before me and my pesky need for a mount changed the picture. I gave the horse a dried apple from my rations.

We made good progress, mostly thanks to the good weather. We spoke little. There wasn't much to talk about.

We arrived an hour after midday. I said before that this was a remarkably small tribe, but I was wrong. The group that I had seen days before by the pool had been a splinter, maybe a scouting group, though more likely to be a hunting expedition given their numbers. This was the tribe. There had to be at least a hundred tents here, each for one family. Some were as large as our platoon tents, others as massive as the Captain's. Three mounted watchmen (watchriders?) greeted Shamaness when she entered the clearing. They were less certain about me.

>>3626111

"Plentiful grazing," I blessed them. They were startled. One near fell off his horse.

"You know the Tongue?" one of them said, approaching me with undisguised friendliness. It is terrifying when people come to you with such an open expression. You never know what they are actually thinking. "It has been many centuries since we had tales of an Imperial bothering to learn how to speak our way."

>"I'm not Imperial," I replied. "I'm Black Company."

>"It has been many centuries since the Magal rode in to the center of Sinae." There were speakers of Old Parthian in the Capital. They just tended to be massive perverts. That, or following a fad.

>>3626113
>>"I'm not Imperial," I replied. "I'm Black Company."

>>3626076
>"What can I say about myself? I had an unprepossessing childhood. I was slotted into the cursus honorum, even as I was married off to a woman I barely knew. Then some scandal happened just as I was growing to love her and her I, forcing me to a divorce I never wanted." The words tumbled out of me, bare in detail as they were. I didn't meet Shamaness' eyes.

>>3626113

>"It has been many centuries since the Magal rode in to the center of Sinae." There were speakers of Old Parthian in the Capital. They just tended to be massive perverts. That, or following a fad.

>>3626113
>"I'm not Imperial," I replied. "I'm Black Company."

>>3626113
>>"I'm not Imperial," I replied. "I'm Black Company."

>>3626142
>>3626132
>>3626123
>"I'm not Imperial," I replied. "I'm Black Company."

"Ah," the rider said knowingly. "You're one of them." It seemed the Company had been here before. I didn't know that. "Are you here to steal off our princess?"

That made me almost fall off my horse. "What princess?"

"Katyusha," he answered. "You mean you rode all the way here with her without knowing her name?"

Katyusha. Katharos, snow-pure. It was a pretty name. "I didn't ask." Magal do not have princesses. They use a different word entirely for chieftain's daughter. I wondered what this rider was talking about.

"You are a strange man," he laughed. It is a good sign when the Magal riders are filled with mirth. Their only other emotion is fury.

The chieftain of this tribe was a dashing young warrior in his early thirties. He looked strong enough to eat an ox by himself, and had arms that could smash marble. I once dabbled in poetry, before my wife laughed at my votive poems.

"Katyusha speaks of an alliance," he said. "What makes you think your herd can match mine?"

>"Two small herds are easy prey, compared to a single unified one," I replied. "The Horde that comes cannot be resisted by any free Magal. Not alone."

>"I don't think so. I know so." Three months of living with the Company had given me the measure of its strength. Pikemen reinforced by crossbowmen, with swordsmen like myself augmenting the short-ranged defences. I was pretty sure we could deal with a herd the size of this tribe.

>>3626143
>"Two small herds are easy prey, compared to a single unified one," I replied. "The Horde that comes cannot be resisted by any free Magal. Not alone."

>>3626143
>"I don't think so. I know so." Three months of living with the Company had given me the measure of its strength. Pikemen reinforced by crossbowmen, with swordsmen like myself augmenting the short-ranged defences. I was pretty sure we could deal with a herd the size of this tribe.

>>3626154
Ditto

>>3626143
>>"Two small herds are easy prey, compared to a single unified one," I replied. "The Horde that comes cannot be resisted by any free Magal. Not alone."

>>3626143
>"Two small herds are easy prey, compared to a single unified one," I replied. "The Horde that comes cannot be resisted by any free Magal. Not alone."

>>3626143

>"I don't think so. I know so." Three months of living with the Company had given me the measure of its strength. Pikemen reinforced by crossbowmen, with swordsmen like myself augmenting the short-ranged defences. I was pretty sure we could deal with a herd the size of this tribe.

>Both, sort of, starting with
>"Two small herds are easy prey, compared to a single unified one," I replied. "The Horde that comes cannot be resisted by any free Magal. Not alone."

His face was mirthless. "My ancestors heard such words, many centuries ago. An appeal to a common enemy. The sweet words of unification. They followed then, and became vassals to landworkers. You know of whom I speak of."

Of course I did. Every children in Sinae knew the name of Alexandros of Numante. The man. The myth. The legend. The Emperor.

"We Magal are not as foolish as you urbanised population think," he continued. "We were spurned after being used, like so many unwanted stepchildren. You think I will accept the same thing to happen?"

"Your ancestors accepted because that was the only choice," I replied. I am something of an amateur historian. Some of my humble additions have made their way into the Capital's Bibliotheca, though more, I suspect, due to my lineage than my worth as an author. "You know that you must fall under the Company's banner, or die like scattered horses, bereft of the protection of fences."

"Careful, emissary of the Company," the chieftain warned me. "You come under the diplomatic flag, but we Magal are known to be impulsive."

I am Scrivener. Diplomacy is not my job. Only a strong sense of self-preservation let me continue on without showing weakness. If I made plain on my face what I was feeling right now, I would not have left the tent alive.

"You are too proud to serve under those you deem weaker than you," I said. "Fine. I think the Company can definitely destroy your herd, if forced to fight. But we don't want to. All we want is to fulfill the comission we were hired to do. A legion is coming to assist us in our defences of northern Sinae. Fortifications are being prepared, walls raised, ballistae set up. If you want to go against the Horde, we are your best bet." I was gambling on their pride. It felt dirty, playing on their sentiments like this. "If you want to flee, then the Company will not stop you. We are not here to attack your tribe. We are here for the Horde."

The chieftain didn't answer immediately. "I do not have an answer immediately," he said. "Come back tomorrow. You will have an answer then."

That was alright. I knew how to dig a hole for myself to sleep in. I always carried a spade with me. The one I had now happened to be the selfsame one Theophilos was digging my grave with.

"Are you mad?" The chieftain was aghast when I told him where he could find me. "You can't sleep in the open air. You will die. Katyusha brought you here, and Katyusha will remain responsible for you."

>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

>I accepted, though I tried not to seem too eager. It gets lonely at night in these cold wintry plains, and we're currently in summer. I hoped the Company would be gone by winter.

>>3626143

>"I don't think so. I know so." Three months of living with the Company had given me the measure of its strength. Pikemen reinforced by crossbowmen, with swordsmen like myself augmenting the short-ranged defences. I was pretty sure we could deal with a herd the size of this tribe

>>3626182
>>I accepted, though I tried not to seem too eager. It gets lonely at night in these cold wintry plains, and we're currently in summer. I hoped the Company would be gone by winter.

>>3626182
>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

>>3626182

>I accepted, though I tried not to seem too eager. It gets lonely at night in these cold wintry plains, and we're currently in summer. I hoped the Company would be gone by winter.

>>3626182
>>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

out of decency

>>3626182

>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

>>3626182
>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

>>3626188
I also don't want to betray dumpling.

>>3626182
>>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

There is also the fact that if we sleep in the same tent we will develop feelling for each other and she will end up into the company or will try to force us to leave it.

>>3626191
Nah, I bet if we fuck the shamaness we end up marrying in their coulture or something
this is the second QM trap we dodge, there was that one about having a bad feeling

>>3626186
>>3626188
>>3626189
>>3626190
>>3626192
>I protested. I couldn't sleep under one roof with a woman I barely knew. Necessity demanded last night, but I -was- a man.

The chieftain guffawed, and his lackeys followed suit. "You Imperials and your icky feelings!" he said. "I don't care what you do under the privacy of her yurt. It is not my place to mess with the property of the Princess."

"I'm not a property," I told him crossly. I was pretty sure there was no human selling buying involved, just pure hostage-taking, plain and simple. "Don't you care about the ramifications of putting a hot-blooded man with a young woman like that?"

He smiled. "Katyusha knows how to handle herself with men, if Imperials can be called men. And I do not believe she is taken. It would be good for her to find a man at last."

"I thought I didn't count as a man."

"Looks like there will be no worry of keeping you and her in the same room," the chieftain said. Another round of guffaws followed. "Go now, lest Katyusha kill me for keeping you overlong," the chieftain said. "Tonight, there will be feast."

"Oh, there you are at last!" Katyush- Shamaness said, when I exited the tent. She looked nervous. "You didn't die," she stated. I thought that was self-evident. "Did they harm you? Emasculate you, perhaps? Chieftain didn't brand you with the heated iron, did he?" She looked half anxious, half angry. Angry at all the possible mistreatment I might have received. Anxious that I didn't form a negative opinion of the Magal.

I wasn't harmed in any way, and I assured Shamaness of that. A bit of masculine pride was singed. I've had worse. "All ills would be forgotten depending on the quality of the dinner," I declared.

She clapped her hands joyfully. "How timely! We are having a feast tonight. Make sure you wear your best!"

I looked down at myself. Back up to her expectant face. Back down again. Up. "I didn't bring any spares." I wasn't exactly planning on being taken hostage.

"That won't do," she said with a frown. "I'll have to see if I can borrow some clothes your size."

>"I like my clothes." Mainly, I liked the armour. I never parted with it if I could help it, except when sleeping.

>"Do you think they'll let me borrow some?" I had always been curious as to the customs and traditions of the different peoples of the world. Magal were known for their colourful patterend clothes.

>>3626203
>>"Do you think they'll let me borrow some?" I had always been curious as to the customs and traditions of the different peoples of the world. Magal were known for their colourful patterend clothes.

>>3626203
Middle ground, keep the armor but adorn with some of the local acessories.

>>3626203
>>"Do you think they'll let me borrow some?" I had always been curious as to the customs and traditions of the different peoples of the world. Magal were known for their colourful patterend clothes.


Lets be real, if they want us dead it doesn't matter how much armour we have on

>>3626203
>>"Do you think they'll let me borrow some?" I had always been curious as to the customs and traditions of the different peoples of the world. Magal were known for their colourful patterend clothes.

make sure it's not marriage attire, these fucking tribals are always marrying people without their consent

>>3626218
>>3626206
>>3626223
Travel had made me grimy. The average trooper is not exactly the paragon of hygienic virtues in the best of days, and I had been scrawling and stalking through the flatlands. Before I knew it, Shamaness sicced some grandmothers on me. What followed was the third most humiliating moment in my life.

The women of Magal have arms of steel. They made use of that to strip me clean. Once peeled from my clothing, I was unceremoniously dumped into an oversized bucket, after which the grandmothers vigorously scrubbed me in all the right and wrong places.

"Please don't look at me," I said miserably. I was wet, denuded, and in public. No one seemed to really care, except for the young girls that came to stare. More, I think, because I was a foreigner, than for my looks. Shamaness was prowling around all the while, keeping guard in the perimeter. I don't know what she was guarding against. It isn't as if I could have jumped off the bucket, not with four of these grandmothers holding me down.

She only eased her concern when I was dressed, deigning to dress up herself then. She didn't say anything, but I stayed outside. It was common decency.

"Are you done?" I shouted into the yurt. The sun was cradling on the horizon, and I was hungry. I could smell the feast, and it smelled like meat and oil and gravy and all the wonderful things of the world.

File: Shamaness.jpg (73 KB, 531x768)

73 KB JPG

>>3626234
"Just a moment!" she called back. After fifteen thousand just-a-moments later, she popped out of the flaps and did a little spin. "What do you think?" she said.

>"Very good. Now let's go before all the seats are filled." I had only eaten Company rations the past three months. Say what you will about Milo's quartermastering skills, but nothing could compare to real homecooked food.

>"It is very nice." It was more than nice. She looked absolutely radiant. I momentarily forgot my hunger while she moved this way and that to show off each and every pattern on her dress.

>>3626239
>>"Very good. Now let's go before all the seats are filled." I had only eaten Company rations the past three months. Say what you will about Milo's quartermastering skills, but nothing could compare to real homecooked food.
foooooooooood!

>>3626239
>>"It is very nice." It was more than nice. She looked absolutely radiant. I momentarily forgot my hunger while she moved this way and that to show off each and every pattern on her dress.

>>3626239

>"Very good. Now let's go before all the seats are filled." I had only eaten Company rations the past three months. Say what you will about Milo's quartermastering skills, but nothing could compare to real homecooked food.

Ignore waifuing, acquire food

I'm actually torn now.
Can we have a pic of the mage twins? To help a bit with our response?

>>3626239
>"Very good. Now let's go before all the seats are filled." I had only eaten Company rations the past three months. Say what you will about Milo's quartermastering skills, but nothing could compare to real homecooked food.

File: Twins.jpg (181 KB, 1024x704)

181 KB JPG

>>3626259
Twins are of Parthian ancestry, but don't speak the culture

>>3626268
*speak the language or know the culture well

>>3626271
So no harm in flattering one of their own I change to

>"It is very nice." It was more than nice. She looked absolutely radiant. I momentarily forgot my hunger while she moved this way and that to show off each and every pattern on her dress.

My real love is the murderous Hood anyway.

>>3626240
>>3626246
>>3626261
>"Very good. Now let's go before all the seats are filled." I had only eaten Company rations the past three months. Say what you will about Milo's quartermastering skills, but nothing could compare to real homecooked food.

"As if they would dare begin the feast without us," Shamaness laughed. The everpresent cold tinged her face with the colour of the sunset. She tapped her shoes in place. "Race you there?"

"But I don't know where-"

"Just follow me!" And she ran off, her skirt billowing in the wind. I sighed. First she made us late by taking ages on her costume, and now she was demanding I race with her while wearing a skirt.

Women.

>1d100 to see how you do in this impromptu race

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>3626291

>>3626275
>My real love is the murderous Hood anyway.
Nothing spices up a relationship like attempted murder

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>3626291
As if she had any chances

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>3626291
beep beep

>>3626292
>>3626294
This is a roll under quest

>>3626297
It's okay i got it.

>>3626297
Good I was hoping we loose. Trip and land our face first into dirt

>71
>93
>33

A gaggle of grandmothers appeared in my sight. I froze. Their steely fingers had made a lasting impression on me, physically as well as mentally. I was not going to let them see me again so they could manhandle me, race be damned.

I took a circuitous route, wedging myself between tents and clambering over baskets, always following the scent of delicious food. Once or twice I was almost spotted by those grandmothers, but I had trained for this. Legionary camping grounds are pitted with spear walls and low-ceilinged crawlspaces for training.

"You're still late," Shamaness said with a teasing smile, as she heard my explanations.

"Only because of the grandmothers."

"Oh, don't be a sore loser," she joked, poking me lightly in the rib. "Now come on and seat down, Chief is going to make a big speech!"

>My eyes sought out the platters of meat dumplings. The rest of the feast went by in a blurry haze. All I know is that my stomach rejoiced that evening.

>Restraining my bestial desires, I sat down and politely listened to the Chief. I hoped he was the laconic kind.

>>3626317
>Restraining my bestial desires, I sat down and politely listened to the Chief. I hoped he was the laconic kind.

>>3626317
>>Restraining my bestial desires, I sat down and politely listened to the Chief. I hoped he was the laconic kind.

>>3626317

>Restraining my bestial desires, I sat down and politely listened to the Chief. I hoped he was the laconic kind.

>>3626317
>Restraining my bestial desires, I sat down and politely listened to the Chief. I hoped he was the laconic kind.

>>3626317

>My eyes sought out the platters of meat dumplings. The rest of the feast went by in a blurry haze. All I know is that my stomach rejoiced that evening.

I bet we end up married and don't even notice.

>>3626317
>My eyes sought out the platters of meat dumplings. The rest of the feast went by in a blurry haze. All I know is that my stomach rejoiced that evening.

>>3626317
>>Restraining my bestial desires, I sat down and politely listened to the Chief. I hoped he was the laconic kind.

>>3626317

>My eyes sought out the platters of meat dumplings. The rest of the feast went by in a blurry haze. All I know is that my stomach rejoiced that evening.

>>3626356
>>3626325
>>3626321
>>3626319
>>3626318
It was a short dinner speech. The intimate sort, intended for family members and close friends. The entire tribe except me was kith and kin. They laughed at the inside jokes. They nodded at the remembrance of their past. I stealthily tossed dumplings into my mouth.

"A decision looms upon us all," the chieftain said. "Do we stand and fight? The Sable Arrows have submitted before the Horde. The Blackbows are destroyed, never to let their mounts graze again in their ancestral lands. Three Hooves have submitted before the self-proclaimed Khagan. All our old allies are dead or broken."

All shaman-less tribes. The chieftain went on to reason their continued existence to Shamaness. Wizards can make or break a battle, and the Khagan did not have any. I consoled myself with that new bit of information. What we knew about the Magal was woefully small, as far as recent news went. When the speech ended and the feast began, I was the only one with an appetite.

The night passed in silence, then the morn. I was called to the chieftain's tent as soon as lunch was over. The first thing I told the chieftain was the size of our forces, one thousand well-trained men. There was also a legion coming to assist us, I reminded him. Lastly, I mentioned our five wizards. I think that did the most to persuade him to see my way.

When evening fell, I was given leave to saddle a horse they were lending me. I'd done it. I walked into the den of the lion and was going to return, more or less whole.

"Aurelius!"

I turned. It was Shamaness. I am sure it was just my imagination, mostly from the increasingly reduced visibility with the sun going down, but she seemed sorry to see me go. I know, it's egotistical to think that. These fancies occasionally strike me when my brain is idle. Once, I thought Dumpling was attracted to me.

She made her way to me and my horse. "Take these dumplings," she told me, thrusting a basket of yesterday's leftovers. It was made of some kind of bark, dried and lacquered to hold food. The top was fastened tight, to prevent spillage while on the move. "I saw how much you liked them," she said shyly. "Share them with your friends, the one with the broken face and the girl."

"Thank you for the hospitality," I said, meaning every word. "I even got to keep the pretty clothes. They are surprisingly comfortable to move around in. I wish I had something I could give you." My mother always told me to give as much as I receive. "Will I see you again?" I wanted to know if her tribe was going to join us in this temporary alliance.

She lowered her face. "Do you want to?" she asked. "See me again, that is."

>>3626523

>"Of course," I said. Any reinforcement would help against the screaming Horde that was only enlarging. There is nothing dishonourable about fearing the horse people. You would feel the urge to break formation and run too, if you were faced with the elusive mounted archers of the Magal.

>"By which I mean, of course, whether your tribe would be joining our defensive positions further south." I wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding between us. I don't do relationships very well, and the past events - the sleepless nights, the race to the feast, my embarassing shower - could have engendered some misunderstanding between us.

>>3626526

>"Of course," I said. Any reinforcement would help against the screaming Horde that was only enlarging. There is nothing dishonourable about fearing the horse people. You would feel the urge to break formation and run too, if you were faced with the elusive mounted archers of the Magal.

Misunderstandings ahoy

Let it stew for a few seconds and then add

"Your tribe would be invaluable to the defensive effort."

>>3626549
Actually, take out that last part, its kind of rude to say we want to use her tribe, even if we stay friends or something else there is no harm in saying we shall meet again

>>3626526
>"Of course," I said. Any reinforcement would help against the screaming Horde that was only enlarging. There is nothing dishonourable about fearing the horse people. You would feel the urge to break formation and run too, if you were faced with the elusive mounted archers of the Magal.

>>3626526

>"Of course," I said. Any reinforcement would help against the screaming Horde that was only enlarging. There is nothing dishonourable about fearing the horse people. You would feel the urge to break formation and run too, if you were faced with the elusive mounted archers of the Magal.

>>3626526
>>"Of course," I said.

>>3626571
>>3626578
>>3626580
>>3626549
>"Of course," I said. Any reinforcement would help against the screaming Horde that was only enlarging. There is nothing dishonourable about fearing the horse people. You would feel the urge to break formation and run too, if you were faced with the elusive mounted archers of the Magal.

"Then we will see each other again," she said earnestly. Maybe I was getting the hang of this diplomacy thing.

"Did you mean it, when you said you wished you could give me something back?" she said suddenly.

"Of course." I wouldn't have said it, if I didn't mean it. Unless it was a lie. Though I confess myself to be a fluent liar, that was not one of them.

---

"What did she ask for?" Dumpling asked, her mouth full of dumplings. It had been reheated by one of the cooks named Glen, who I had to bribe with a fourth of the leftovers. It was worth it. Nobody likes cold, congealed-in-oil dumplings. If anyone claims to do so, I shall call him a liar with no hesitation. It takes one to know one.

"Maybe it was a kiss," Trevain said dreamily. Sister sighed. Trevain and I shuddered. "No, it was not a kiss," I told him.

"A special token," Sergeant said knowingly. When I began the story, he was pretending to be asleep. The warmed dumpling delivery made him ditch that play-acting very quickly. Dumpling threw a hair-raising hex on him, which made Morion snicker.

"She asked for forgiveness," I answered. "She said she was sorry about needling me with my great-grandfather."

There was a collective groan, except from Theophilos, who said it was a nice thing for her to do. "Bo~ring," Trevain said monotonously. "I thought you would have bagged a girl by now, Aurelius. You have the looks, as long as you keep your eyes closed. That gold stuff? Freaky." I remembered why I didn't like our corporal again.

"I don't think it's right to get into a relationship so thoughtlessly," I retorted. The first and last time I was married was when the duty was thrust to me. Just as we were becoming happy, it was taken away from us.

Morion made an eye at her sister. "Don't you think it's about time you got over your first marriage?" she asked, a cheeky smile on her face. "You're so young! You can start again, you know." I knew she meant no harm. She was also wrong. I may look young for my age, but that has more to do with factors beyond my control.

>>3626638
>But an unwilling divorce is a kind of scar that does not heal so quickly. I was not ready to open my heart to another relationship. Not yet. [No romantic relations Aurelius]

>"I guess I haven't sorted out my feelings yet," I admitted. My ex-wife was often on my mind. She was a kind woman, who had no ill will toward me for the arranged marriage.

>"Because there are so many fine ladies just waiting to jump on a divorcee," I chuckled. It wasn't like I hadn't tried. I just hadn't found anyone who liked me in that way yet.

>"But I did start again. Haven't you seen me and Hood? We're totally an item." And then Hood shot at me. I probably should have seen that coming.