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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 21, 2011 15:33:07 GMT -6
They hadn't been heading west long, when Clair had gone up on the pegasus. She still hadn't named it yet. The Falcoknight wasn't really sure about the young mare's temperment, or her own feelings yet. What was known, is that this pegasus was nowhere near as steady, powerful, or fast in the air, as Corona had been..., and hopefully, would be again.
There hadn't been much, but eventually, Clair had found wagon tracks. This didn't mean much in and of itself, but it was the only set she could find, and there had been ten or so boot prints following along with it. She'd decided to take that trail. It still headed in a westward direction, despite having to wind back and forth over the ground to get around some rocky hills. Her people would be able to go straight over the rough terrain instead. Or, at least much more than the heavy wagon had been able to.
She'd returned to the ground as she came into what seemed like the tail end of a blizzard blowing in. Traveling outside was really a bad place to be during a blizzard, but she didn't think they could stop yet. Even with snow and ice falling in sheets from the sky, they would press on westward. Unfortunately, the tracks were covered over by snow ahead. They'd just have to keep moving that way, as best they could.
She found herself walking near David and Garith as she turned her attention to why. Why was this cluster heading westward. They had to have some reason.
"Hold onto your socks, boys, if you got them. This isn't going to be the sort of storm anyone should be out in."
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David Krisby
Mercenary
DEAD
"Where is MY path to redemption?"
Posts: 81
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Post by David Krisby on Aug 21, 2011 20:49:43 GMT -6
"Heh, perfect time for me to be cloakless, eh? Think we can get a shelter of some kind?"
David had a back-up plan of course. Booze, the answer to everything. He felt that he could drink more when Fran wasn't nearby.
Most of his ale was hidden away in his cloak, but he did have a couple reserve bottles hidden in his pants.
"Well, whatever. You're the leader here, Beauty. You just tell us what to do." David had gotten used to calling Clair "Beauty," even though he had called Fran the same once. It only stuck with Clair, a better name than "Commander" in David's eyes.
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Aug 21, 2011 21:15:52 GMT -6
"Well this was a great idea Garith signing us up to get your Commander Feldsky's precious Richter," Cryger said jokingly as he walked past Garith who just gave him a dirty look. Garith was honestly glad they started to move before he had to answer Feldsky's question about who his father was. It was also a good thing they both had cloaks to protect them from the snow.
"I think shelter would be a good idea," Garith said quietly. Cryger then laughed a bit the storm didn't seem to be fazing him.
"I think we should just take the storm head on and show them what we're made of!" Cryger exclaimed as he pulled out his dagger and pointed it into the air. Garith then grabbed him and dragged him closer to him.
"Hey try to run your mouth so much someone might notice you," Garith whispered.
"Oh alright buzz kill," Cryger said as he kept walking next to Garith. The blue haired mercenary let out a small sigh and kept walking noticing the tracks on the ground.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Aug 22, 2011 21:46:17 GMT -6
Derick eyed the sky grimly before looking back at the map; there was no way he'd be able to make it to his destination before that blizzard rolled in. He stole another glance at the map, being trained as a soldier in Bern, he had only a cursory knowledge of geography. The endless plane of snow and trees made reading the map even harder, and he frankly wasn't sure if he was even on the right path anymore. He plodded on, keeping an eye out for landmarks that were mentioned on the map. When he had first read them, they had sounded easy enough to spot: a rock as tall as ten men, the patch of pine trees that formed a triangle...but he hadn't counted on them all being covered in snow. Sighing, he stowed the map away and kept walking, his mind drifted back to the events of just a few days ago as he walked...
Derick had woken up in a mercenary's guild after deserting Bern's military when he killed his commander. He had briefly met a young girl named Caelica, before she quickly departed and left him face to face with her guild master. The guild master had explained to him that, being a mercenary guild, every came with a price, including their healing services performed on Derick. Therefore, he wanted Derick to follow Caelica to her next job and act as her bodyguard. Derick figured a mercenary contract was the perfect reward for free healing, and so took the job. He was promptly kicked out and given a map and a heavy traveling cloak, along with his possessions that he took from Bern; his sergeant's over-sized armor, a slim lance, and a vulnary.
Derick's thoughts were promptly interrupted as his foot slipped on a patch of tightly packed snow. Derick lost his balance and plowed into the snow. After a few minutes of struggling, he managed to extract himself from the snow, he rose to his feet and brushed off his armor and cloak as he examined what he just slipped on. There were two icy streaks running through the snow, with what looked like horseshoe prints...there were even a few bootprints as well. Derick's thoughts were interrupted a second time as a gale of ice and wind tore across the snows. Derick adjusted the heavy traveling cloak and began searching for a shelter; being from northern Bern, he was used to the cold, but this was getting ridiculous.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 23, 2011 9:17:34 GMT -6
"We're not stopping." Richter had at least a day on them, though if he was with the group they were chasing at the moment, then he'd be less. The wagon had moved slowly through the hills, which gave them a chance. If he was with them. And if he was alive.
What kind of idiots bring a wagon through the hills anyway? Wagons were suited to road travel.... "Not hills" being the unspoken bit. Regardless of the wagon, the general direction they'd been heading had been west. Etruria was westward, and fit with her theory about the country's involvement. There was also a lot of Illia to the west though. Common brigands and malcontents didn't seem a likely cause for Richter's abduction to her, particularly not an attack as large as the one the army had faced.... No, this was definitely an act of war. Not a simple raid made out of some bandit's anger.
The Falcoknight squinted ahead, into the blizzard. The cold Illian winds were kicking up the snow ahead of them, and carrying little fragments of the stuff along, pelting the pursuers. The tracks they were following would be gone in minutes, if they weren't already. Between the two, the pegasus seemed to have more sense than Clair, tucking its wings in close to its body, and turning its head downward, to avoid the wind as it was led forward.
Clair just had to weather it as best she could. She didn't keep a cloak either, though the blanket she'd rolled up and tied to the winged horse would do in a pinch.... How long could this storm last, anyway? Till it blew over? Illian's may be known for growing used to the cold, snowstorms were not simple cold.... Most of this troop isn't even Illian, come to think of it....
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Aug 23, 2011 10:57:59 GMT -6
"We're not stopping?!" Cryger whined jokingly. Garith then elbowed his father in the side as a way of telling him to shut up. The assassin just laughed and kept walking.
The storm wasn't really bothering Garith besides it being somewhat hard to see where exactly he was going. To make sure he was on the right track he looked down to the tracks that they were following. He then wondered what kind of situation Richter was in. He hoped the Commander was alright he would kind of look bad if your first important boss died the second day you were on the job.
He then pulled his cloak closer to his body to keep as warm as he could. The cold had finally started to get to him, darn his shirt not having any sleeves! Garith then looked to his father who was whistling a tune with a smile on his face. Garith wasn't going to forget the fact that his father was still a wanted criminal and the fact that no one noticed him was really lucky. He knew he would have to tell someone everything eventually and figured he'd tell Clair sometime.
"You were with the people who took Richter any idea where they took him?" Gairth asked his father whispering to him. Cryger let out a small laugh and turned to his son.
"I have absolutely no idea where they took him my boy," He said with a chuckle as he then walked ahead of Garith.
Great we have someone with us who was with the enemy and he doesn't even know where they took Richter what use was he? Garith thought as he walked through the storm.
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Viktor
Mercenary
[M:0]
Posts: 2
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Post by Viktor on Aug 23, 2011 11:56:10 GMT -6
Eleven years…
For eleven years Viktor had successfully completed gruesome task upon even more nightmare inducing task. He had killed, slaughtered, robbed women of their husbands and children of their fathers. It was never easy but he had never failed either. And yet now this day of great shame had eventually come. Viktor knew that it bound to happen. He didn’t like guessing games but his whole life had basically been one big gamble. And now was the moment where he got overconfident and lost all his winnings.
The job wasn’t even as grueling as most of Viktor’s jobs were these days. The task was simple: Viktor was to escort his client to the border of Sacae. The client had originally requested to be taken even farther to a specific location in Sacae but when Viktor declined the job, stating that he was not willing to go that far, the man had settled for less and asked Viktor to simply take him to the border.
Viktor had been confident of his ability to complete this job without trouble. Most bandits and robbers fled at the sight of his muscles and sword. The cowards didn’t have the courage to engage in a battle with someone who actually fought back. But bandits had not been the cause of his client’s death. The poor soul had unsuspectingly eaten a poisonous plant while Viktor wasn’t paying attention and had suffered a slow death. Viktor had stayed with his client for days, determined to heal him and finish his job, but eventually the man had collapsed.
As if matters weren’t bad enough Viktor was struck by a blizzard. The cold didn’t bother him that much; he was freezing in his thin, worn clothes yet he had learned to ignore it; but it did slow him down considerably. The long trek back home was bound to take even longer now.
Viktor picked up his trusty blade and managed to find a vulnerary on the dead body of his client. Viktor was an honorable man but he felt that it was wasteful to just leave the item with the carcass. He was not willing to drag the corpse all the way back to Arphen either so he left it lying in the middle of the tundra and started to slowly head back to the city.
His journey was only barely underway when it was interrupted by Viktor noticing a human presence. He couldn’t see very far because of the storm but if he listened carefully he could hear voices in the distance. Viktor followed the voices and they led him to a small group of people, one of them atop a pegasus, that seemed to be traveling in the same direction as he was. Normally the need for company was extremely small for Viktor but his recent failure had left him feeling empty and some travel companions were always welcome. He still didn’t know whether these people were to be trusted though so he made sure to keep his distance and slowly followed the band of travelers in hopes of discovering their intentions.
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David Krisby
Mercenary
DEAD
"Where is MY path to redemption?"
Posts: 81
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Post by David Krisby on Aug 23, 2011 15:38:55 GMT -6
"Alright, alright. You're the boss, Beauty. At least until we get Richter back."
David took a swig of his emergency flask to get ready to numb out the cold. He had lived in Ilia for so long, and yet the cold was still cold.
He wasn't really paying attention to the tracks they followed, or the direction they were going in. He just followed, not even remembering the leadership he showed in the previous battle.
David took another swig. Weathering a storm was bad, very bad. It would be easy to die of hypothermia if the storm got bad. Just catching hypothermia would be cause for healers yet again, unfortunately.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 24, 2011 17:16:23 GMT -6
The Falcoknight rolled her eyes at David's last comment. It was good to know that he was optimistic at finding Richter,... but then, he may be simply following her blindly. And did he have to keep calling her that?
"David, save that for when we've stopped! I can't have you ending up like how we found you!" She said, glancing his bottle of what must surely be alcohol.
Gah! The storm was making her irritable as she kept pressing forward. It was freezing, out.... What was she doing keeping them going in all this winter mess? Well, she was trying to make up for lost time, on the pursuit after Richter. But, blindly marching on through this gale would only weaken them, and might make them miss a sign of their targets. The argument continued, as the blond haired sky rider continued to push forward, leading her pegasus on a path she could barely make out through squinted eyes.
Something in the landscape in front of them changed. In the dim halflight of the blizzard, she could make out... a box. A box on wheels. It was encrusted with snow, and ice, but it wasn't covered enough to have been there for more than half a day at best. What was more exciting, was that the spacing on the wheels matched the tracks they had been following earlier. Clair doubled her pace, and hurried ahead, grabbing her killer lance in fingers stiff with cold.
Even in her hurry, she didn't throw all caution aside, searching the area as best she could with her eyes, before moving in. The cart seemed to be a sort of prison on wheels. A wooden cage. When she got up to it though, and began wrenching it partway open, she found it empty.
Clair's shoulders slumped. When she'd seen the cart they'd been chasing, there had been a moment of real, tangible hope. Now though, things just felt hard. A dead man would complain of the cold that was assailing them now. If it had been foolish to continue before, it would be downright irresponsible to continue now.
"...It's empty. For a moment there, I hoped he'd be there."
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Aug 24, 2011 20:57:22 GMT -6
Derick huddled deeper into the snowbank, his eyes narrowing as he watched the group search the wagon. A falcoknight was in the lead, so Derick's first thought was that they were military. He stared down the falcoknight as she gave a negative gesture towards the rest of the group before casting her eyes over the snowy landscape. Derick crouched back behind the snow bank and mulled it over."I should greet them...but if they're Ilian military, there's a good chance they'll kill me just because of my Bern sergeant armor..." Derick hesitated, then decided that surrendering would be the best course of action.
As the falcoknight looked in his direction again, Derick rose from the snow and spread his arms with his lance loosely grasped in his left hand to show that he was unarmed."Um...hello there!" he called out. I have no idea how I'm supposed to offer myself up for hire...Derick thought to himself, guess I'll just have to wing it.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 27, 2011 22:05:39 GMT -6
"Um...hello there!"
Clair's head snapped to the form of a figure standing several yards away. It was difficult to tell much more from the snow swirling. She could tell it was a man, and one in armor. He had a lance loosely held in his grip, but even holding his weapon so non-threateningly, Clair still felt suspicious. She slipped her weapon into a more familiar grip, and started to aim it at the newcomer, before frowning, and stabbing the butt of her lance down in the snow, like a walking stick. She didn't see a point in aiming her weapon yet, as he was still too far away to be of any concern. Some of her soldiers did aim their weapons though, and she didn't bother stopping them. They'd been tracking enemies, and here was this man turning up at the first place the group had caught a sign of their prey.
"Come over here, and identify yourself!" Clair shouted out to him, catching glimpses of his strange armor for the first time. She doubted that this one man, who'd seemed to unsure in yelling to them, would turn out to be much of a threat, if he intended trouble. If he was a bandit, or one of the people she was hunting... well, she'd have her uses for him before he expired.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Aug 28, 2011 10:13:47 GMT -6
"Come over here and identify yourself!"
Well that went well, Derick thought as he noted the aggressive stances the entire band had adopted. Derick hesitated, and then began trudging through the snow slowly, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the falcoknight's. As he drew near, he noted that the falcoknight's eyes kept shifting between his face and his lance. He kept walking, stopping when he was within ten feet of the falcoknight and carefully laying his lance on top of the snow.
Derick adopted an "at-ease" stance, standing erect while making sure he kept his hands visible. "I'm Derick Giffuri, a mercenary." Derick knew immediately that wouldn't be enough, but the falcoknight had asked for his identity, not his life story.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 29, 2011 15:34:44 GMT -6
Just because there was a man coming towards them through the snow wasn't a reason to let their guard down yet. The Falcoknight Commander kept her eyes alert, glancing through the snow without moving her head much. If this was some sort of ambush, at least she wouldn't be caught off guard.
"Good choice, Spearman." Clair said outloud as he slowly layed his weapon down on the snow. She pursed her lips in thought at his answer. A mercenary was a simple explanation. Common enough to make for a suitable cover story. But then, it was common because it was often true. He could be exactly as he said he was, or he could be one of the stragglers off of yesterday's battle, and it would be near impossible to tell. She did take note that he didn't seem to have been in a battle recently though....
"What's your business down here, Derick? And where did you come from?" From the Falcoknight's voice, it was obvious she expected a response. It sounded a bit harsh, and even suspicious, but asking these questions did mean that she'd not made up her mind about him yet.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Aug 29, 2011 22:52:35 GMT -6
Derick paused, looking directly into the falcoknight's eyes as he deliberated a response. Her tone was as icy as the surrounding blizzard, and her glare demanded answers. After a moment's consideration, he decided an abridged version of the truth would be the best choice...but he'd omit his addiction to combat.
"Well, as I said, I'm a mercenary, but I was trained as a recruit in Bern," he tapped his ill-fitting armor as he said this, "but was forced to desert after my commander tried to pin a murder on me and then made an attempt on my life. I escaped on horseback and rode north, eventually falling unconscious due to an illness from my wounds."
Derick paused as he tried to recall the ride into Ilia...It was hazy, not worth talking about. He watched the wind sweep his steamy breath away, then his gaze wandered back onto the Falcoknight. She still had an intense look on her face, so he figured he had better continue.
"I woke up in an Ilian mercenary guild, a healer was attending me, and I soon learned that I had been found in a heap on the side of the road three days prior to waking up. Shortly after, I met the young girl who was responsible for saving me, but she was called away and I was left alone with her guild master. The guild master asked that I pay for the healing services they had provided for me by taking a contract from them. I agreed, and so now I'm wandering through this endless field of snow, looking for the girl who saved me so that I can protect her."
Derick paused again, and then realized he had verification of this story, he dug through his pack and located the map and his signed orders. He stepped forward and offered them to the falcoknight.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 30, 2011 21:25:49 GMT -6
Clair listened as he explained. Honestly, she hadn't wanted his life's story, but went ahead and let the man ramble.The backstory... He was from Bern, seeking refuge in Illia? That was a reversal. Interesting to note that not all Bernese hated Illians enough to attack on sight.
She stepped forward, and took the orders, as he handed them out, careful to hang onto them as the frigid winds blew her hair out to the side. She stepped away for a moment, looking the paper over. Derick Giffuri. There was the seal. A seal of one of the Illian mercenary guilds. Clair wasn't overly familiar with them, but it was enough to recognize it. The last part of the story is what felt weird to the sky knight.... Hiring a merc to protect a merc. Seemed a little weird to Clair.
The orders were genuine, and his sort held together. Clair still wondered about whether someone may have killed Derick, and been faking as him now, but that seemed a bit far. The Etrurian Agents had already done what they'd wanted to get done
She turned back to her cluster of soldiers, snow whipping past from the storm. It didn't show signs of letting up.
"Set up the camp, and get the tents up. We'll stop here till the storm lessens." The Falcoknight checked the orientation of the wagon, so she could know where to go when they left, and took a few steps back towards the newly arrived spearman. She looked him over once more, deciding that he probably was telling the truth.
"My name is Clair Feldsky. I'm the Comander of these soldiers." She extended his orders back to him, leaning on her killer lance as if it was a staff.
"It's not often that you find people wandering through a blizzard like this, without good reason."
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