Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 26, 2007 20:03:06 GMT -6
Riding up to the castle, Wylie could see the signs of war everywhere. Bits of wall were charred black. Piles of rubble were all that remained of some of the houses outside the walls. In the distance, smokey columns told the location of more razed farmhouses. The rumours seemed to be true that Santaruz was the hardest hit of all the Lycian territories. He wondered whether the other marquesses had sent aid or whether they had problems of their own.
Approaching the guard at the gates, "Good soldier, is it true Santaruz is hiring healers?" "Gods be praised, yes!" came the reply. "We are disastrously short of healers right now. I'll escort you to the stables and then to the commander. You can negotiate your contract with him."
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 27, 2007 6:06:43 GMT -6
"Well your story checks out so I guess we can trust you," said the Commander. "The usual rate is 20 pieces a day with a room and meals included. Can you start immediately?"
Wylie briefly considered bargaining for more but quickly pushed the thought out of his head as selfish. He wasn't here for the money. "Perfect, and yes. Where are the wounded?"
"Still on the battlefield over there." He pointed out the window at a massive field where ahead, there was fierce fighting while behind, men littered the ground. "Bern are hammering us so badly we can't spare the soldiers to move our own wounded. You should be thankful you've got that horse, you'll need it to get around fast and we have none left to give you."
This is more than I expected. A battlefield? Elimine be with me.
The soldier led him back down to the stables. He found Alia fed, watered and looking healthy and rested, even though she'd only been here 10 minutes.
"Good luck, sir," said the soldier, and Wylie rode towards the fighting.
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 28, 2007 3:30:14 GMT -6
Crowley arrived at the castle. He was just slightly drunk this time. He jumped off his horse and approaced the guard.
"Listen, you twat, I've been sent by the regent of Ostia and he has chosen me to be the guide of this sissy pegasi squad, and you are going to show me exactly where your commander is because he WILL hire me and my friends." Crowley stared at the young guard who looked very uncomfortable now.
"Just jokin' mate. Just show me your commander. Marcus or Yeo, I believe" Crowley then followed the guard into the castle.
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 28, 2007 4:23:49 GMT -6
"Argh!" Wylie grimaced with pain as he recieved a sword swipe to his right arm. The offending soldier was quickly occupied by a Lycian fighter before he could strike again, leaving Wylie to retreat a few metres and then drop to another fallen soldier. It was the third such injury he'd recieved that battle and while nothing permanent, it did make concentrating his healing energies a whole lot more difficult.
"Thank you, healer," said the wounded soldier. "I owe you my life," before rising and returning to the fray.
A few hours ago that would have meant something, but now, you're at least the twelfth person to say that, reflected Wylie.
Hearing a mighty roar, he raised his head to see that Bern's soldiers were retreating for now, and that Santaruz's warriors were giving a brief chase before returning. Looking at the the 40 or so soldiers returning, he recognised at least 10 straight away that he had saved and he felt a flush of pride. He had made a difference.
Suddenly exhausted, the ride back to the castle was a blur. Only faintly aware of the sudden presence of a dozen or so Pegasi that weren't in the stables when he first arrived, he drifted up to his room before collapsing on his bed into a deep, comfortable sleep.
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 28, 2007 6:47:05 GMT -6
(OoC; nice post. I think it's pegasi, if you want to look at it as a Latin word. Matis typed pegasi, so I did it as well.)
Crowley entered the hall were Yeo was sitting.
"Master Yeo, I am but your humblest servant." Crowley said while bowing. Yeo looked very preoccupied and wasn't really impressed by the scruffy looking mercenary and his two equally ugly friends.
"You are?" He said while looking very very uninterested.
"Crowley, sir. Your highness can call me Crow. I've brought you a squad of pegasus knights, some mercenaries, and myself. I've been sent by Matthias, the regent of Ostia... " He paused and grinned.
"Did I mention that I killed the resurrected hero Roland together with him?"
This got Yeo's attention, he arched an eyebrow.
"Impressive... this opens a lot of opportunities." Clearly interested in Crowley now, he stood up and walked towards him and shook his hand while letting his other hand rest on Crowley's shoulder.
"Santaruz is grateful for your deeds, master Crowley. We cannot offer you much, since we are at war. But I'll gladly hire your mercenaries and I'll gladly give you some money after this war is over. For now, what do you desire?" Yeo looked tired and old, but his eyes were friendly.
"What a man always desires sir. A good fight and enough ale to drown in."
Yeo smiled.
"It will be arranged... Crow." He then gestured at some soldiers and scholars who immediately started working on battle plans, documents, etc...
A soldier approached Crowley.
"You'll get one of the better rooms in the castle. You'll have to share it with a healer, though. He deserved the room because of his skills. We appreciate healers... Would you mind... looking after him?" The soldier said. He said it on a demanding tone, which made clear that this soldier was hoping for him to say yes.
Crowley figured that protecting a healer was a pretty safe job, and he needed to stay alive so that he could collect the rewad Yeo promised him.
"Fine; I'll do it." They stopped at the room and Crowley and his two mercenary friends stumbled in. They fell on the bed and they all fell asleep pretty fast.
(OoC: Okay, I hope that this'll do. Yeo was... okay like this? Oh, and you can wake me up if you like, Wylie, that way we get to know each other fast. )
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 28, 2007 21:24:24 GMT -6
(OoC: sweet, protection. Nice idea about sharing a room)
About an hour before the sun came up, Wylie woke as was his habit. Usually, this was his favourite time of the day, the time before anyone else was up, but now, he was just sore and still tired. Unable to get back to sleep, he sat up and looked around the room in the dim, dawn-grey light.
The room was now home to three new people, mercenaries from the look of the non-uniform armour. While glad for the company, he had kind of enjoyed having this huge room all to himself.
Trying not to wake anyone he stepped towards the door but nevertheless, one of them stirred and raised his head to look.
"Oh hi, i'm Wylie, one of the healers here," Wylie said.
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 29, 2007 2:59:22 GMT -6
"GetoutofhERE! AARGH! I bloody HATE it when someone wakes me like that!"
"Aaah shaddup will ya!" Crowley yelled at the ranting mercenary.
"I was awake anyway and nobody gives a sh*t about what you think." Crowley jumped out of bed and started dressing himself in front of Wylie.
"So. Yer that healer we have to protect. Correct?" Crowley looked at the feeble healer. Looked healthy. Smart. Crowley didn't like that. But he had friendly eyes as well. Maybe still not so familiar with the ways mercenaries lived.
When he was ready with dressing himself he got out a flask of alcohol. He drank half the flask. "Want some? It'll be gone in a few minutes."
He then gently pushed the healer out of the door.
"You guys sleep. I'll meet up with you later." Crowley drank a bit again and showed the flask to Wylie.
"Are ye sure?"
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 29, 2007 4:02:06 GMT -6
"Uh, no thanks," said Wylie, surprised by the merc's forwardness. "I can't take a sip without becoming blind drunk. I'm a featherweight."
He pushed the flask back to him, but, hoping he didn't offend the merc by the rejection, quickly changed the subject.
"So you're here to protect me? Thats definately a good thing. As you can see I'm no fighter."
DING DING DING DINGGGGGG!! sounded a bell in the halls.
Breathing a sigh of frustration, Wylie pushed past the merc, jumped back into his room and grabbed his staff.
"That's the war-bell," He explained. "That Bern just doesn't understand the importance of a decent breakfast. Come on, we'll try to swing by the kitchen on the way down and grab a roll."
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 29, 2007 5:30:51 GMT -6
"Don't bother, I get my calories from the bottle anyway." Crowley said and he finished the rest of the flask. He wasn't offended at all. More for him.
He was a bit dissappointed, though, he expected men to be drinkers. And this one... he believed in breakfast? Ah well. He had to stick to him so he'd better behave.
"Gotta take care of somethin', wait for a sec." He pushed the door back open.
"RISE AND SHINE MAGGOTS! Fightin' time! We'll meet you on the battlefield you drunk dogs!"
He closed the door after hearing the moaning of the two other mercenaries.
"Okay. Let's go."
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 29, 2007 5:42:59 GMT -6
(OoC: lol. could you introduce yourself? I'm a bit sick of calling you "the merc")
Bread roll in mouth and staff in hand, Wylie leapt onto the back of Alia and trotted to the mouth of the stables where he found his new merc friend waiting, still swigging from from his apparently bottomless flask.
Wylie raised his head. In the distance he could hear the shouts of men and the ching of sword on armour. Looking back down to the merc, "You got a horse? If not, you better jump on with me." Wylie patted Alia's back behind him for emphasis.
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 29, 2007 6:04:24 GMT -6
"I've got a horse mate. The name's crowley by the way. Crow for battle partners and friends." He took out another bottle out.
"Just getting myself in the mood. Courage straight out of the bottle. Greatest battle potion ever." He laughed and jumped on his horse.
He then slapped the healer on the back.
"We don't want to keep the Bern guys waiting, mmh?"
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 29, 2007 7:59:55 GMT -6
Wylie laughed at Crow's good spirits. "Hya!" He kicked Alia and galloped off towards the fighting.
Upon reaching the melee, he instantly spied three wounded. Leaping down to the first, he rested the end of his staff on the soldier and concentrated. The staff immediately glowed white and the deep spear-wound closed relatively quickly. Having been healed by Wylie before, the soldier just gave a nod of thanks before returning to combat.
Wylie leaped back onto his horse and it was at this moment that he was knocked back down, taking a lance-thrust to the ribs. Gasping for breath, he felt the wound. Feeling through the pain, he concluded he almost certainly had a broken rib but the lance had not penetrated.
With immense difficulty, he remounted and, barely holding himself steady, looked around for more wounded.
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 29, 2007 8:46:22 GMT -6
Crowley slapped the healer on the back once again.
"I like a man who doesn't give up! Yaaar!" He slashed one of the bern soldiers in the face while passing by.
"Just don't get to near to the fight! Heal the ones away from battle! This is too dangerous!" He yelled, because it was impossible to hear anything with all the soldiers going around shouting and screaming.
"Shut. Up!" He yelled at one of the wounded Bern soldiers. He jumped off his horse and stabbed the man through the mouth.
"Excellent." He got on his horse again and gestured at his friends to ride with Wylie. He wouldn't want the healer to get hurt.
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Wylie
Troubadour
The Wrestler
Posts: 172
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Post by Wylie on Oct 29, 2007 19:50:19 GMT -6
Wylie winced with pain. A slap on the back was the last thing he needed with a broken rib. He managed a weak smile before trotting off to another wounded soldier a bit further back from the fighting, noting with comfort that Crow's two merc friends followed him.
Sliding off his horse, he performed the same task he'd performed 20 times before since coming to Santaruz and soon yet another Lycian was back up and fighting.
Looking around he noticed a small band of Bern archers stealthily flanking the battle in the woods to the east. With horror he ralised that with cover that good, they could calmly pick off Santaruz's fighters one by one.
"Crowley!" He shouted, looking around for his new friend. He had to warn someone and no soldier would take battle orders from a healer.
(OoC: I reckon we have to wrap this up and find a reason to get out of Santaruz. Any ideas?)
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Crowley
Mercenary
The Magnificent Renowned Drunk
Posts: 212
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Post by Crowley on Oct 30, 2007 11:34:32 GMT -6
"What, mate!" He yelled at Wylie and saw the horrified expression on Wylie's face. He followed his gaze and saw the band of Bern archers.
"I hate archers." He mumbled. "You! Stay with Wylie!" He barked at one of the mercenaries, he started riding towards the archers who seemed preoccupied with nicking down the Santaruz soldiers. Halfway he realized this was stupid.
"Men! In the woods! Follow me!" A few brave ones were alerted by Crowley and started running towards the woods as well. Crowley and his band of soldiers made it to the forest... barely. Half of them got pinned down and Crowley had lost his horse.
They quickly disposed of the archers when they got near. Crowley got hit in the left arm. After looting some bodies he returned to Wylie. He nodded at him out of gratitude. A few soldiers recognised the friendly healer as well and saluted him.
"I don't like this. Too much danger... Now, heal." He ordered.
(OoC: I'll try to think of something.)
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