Upon the towers of rocky spires and fields of grass and scant flowerbeds stand colors flapping in the breeze like schools of fleeing salmons. They belong to a colorful congregation of tents erected in a myriad of formations including teepees and A-frames and domes and cones. They are scattered among the land where their vicinity is bordered by bases of sloped terrain and small flowers and leafy barks are imbedded in the soil.
A herd of mountain rams adorned with horns that perfectly curl to accommodate the Golden Ratio rise their heads and watch as Kino gently gallops down the slope to the direction of the encampment on his horse followed by his donkey that carries his saddlebag with its head downcast towards the ground while it picks and eats a couple of wild roots with its teeth. Firm on the saddle, he is dressed in his white linen shirt and leggings and shoes made of cured reindeer leather. Strapped on his back is the metal-rimmed heater shield that bears the color of the now-extinct Asa Family: a gold rampant lion proudly standing within a red backdrop.
When Kino arrives at the encampment he climbs down his horse and moves on, gently guiding it by the reins with the donkey following behind. Black kettles and pots and strips of flesh are hung over fires and in a distance the skinless corpse of a bear sprawled on the ground while two broad maidens cut off substantial hunks of the meat starting from the sirloin and a man comes over with his halberd and with great caution swings the broad blade and breaks the kill's ribs. Weapons and armors and clothing are inspected and maintained with crude or professional tools and olive oils are seen applied on the steels that hasten death. The pavilion is drowned in conversations and laughter and shouts while the men dine, gamble, clean or simply huddle together in circles or inside their tents. Walking and sitting along the fighters are women and other men in state of dresses that reflect their civilian occupations including surgeons and entertainers and scribes.
The mercenaries are a platoon of a certain regiment known for their bright colorful garbs, outrageous fashion and heavy weaponry. Many don slashed doublets that may also poof out on their arms as if bellows were blown under the fabrics and the pants are equally slashed on the thigh regions. Not every men resorted to this intriguing doublet as some wear equally colorful tight-fitting garbs but nothing more. Huge codpieces erect on the groin as a display of fierce masculinity and independence. Wide-brimmed hats are also worn by many and some are adorned with large colorful feathers or plumes. Some are seen donning helmets or cuirasses and the most armored personnel don three-quarter suits that leave much of the legs unprotected, save for the frontal thighs and knees that are lined by rails of tassets.
The bearers of heavy violence are pikes and halberds and zweihanders and Katzbalger arming swords and daggers. The two polearms are the most frequently used owing to the formation of the phalanx which when properly deployed render cavalry and beasts and sentient, intelligent flesh useless from six feet away. The Katzbalger blades and daggers are belted at the waist and the mercenaries found their use more effective in close combat although a few do wield them as their primaries and supplanted their free hand with medium pavise shields.
When Kino approaches a huddle of men around a fire with a boiling pot and hunks of rabbit flesh searing on hot rocks he addresses them with a single wave and softly asks if there is a place to water his beasts of burden. One stands up.
"Gimme them," he says. "I'll see them to our sergeants here. Need not worry, I set no snare, okay?"
Kino warily nods and hands the beasts over to the man and they are led to a couple of younger lads who listen and abide to this new instruction.
"You got any water to spare?" says Kino.
The men produce two large pitchers of homebrew root beer.
"Drink up. On the house!" exclaims one. "We are celebrating!"
"I thank ye."
He takes his place among the men on a vacant spot on a log and quenches his thirst while watching them making small banter and holler. When the surfaces of the rabbits turn brown and the mess in the pot is warm one dressed in a blue and orange slashed doublet rise to dole out portions to each in the group. While they eat in relative silence save for tiny talks Kino lifts his head and poses a question to the men.
"Excuse me for asking but is this a victory celebration? Where was the last fued?"
The man in orange-and-blue gives Kino a nod, his grizzled beard matted with grease.
"Ja, we last fought west in the Fields Of Gauthrel. We were stopping a line of wagons and soldiers headed for Melrath. Wagons contain provisions and some books, both magic and non-magic, but it was the salt we were after. Employer wants them for trade. They are now secured in our hands, tomorrow we depart at first light."
"Was it hard?"
"Kind of. We laid ambush to wagons and kill coachmen first. Then we turned attention to the men-at-arms. We clash steel and while we are fighting some of us saw approaching horses. "They have backup!" shouted one. Those were knights, I think. They have full plate and shields with pictures. Sigils. And war lances. A lot of us form hasty phalanx. At least one horse fell after it got pike in the neck, but our phalanx was shit. The rest of us came to help when it broke. More knights arrived and we lost plenty of our own but thank the Immortals we skewered them all and secured the salt and anything else we can take for camp."
Murmurs rise among the ranks. Kino simply nods in silence and resumes his meal. The man points his finger at something sitting near Kino's leg.
"I cannot stop looking at that lion shield. Where did you stole it?"
Last edited by Kino on Wed Feb 12, 2025 1:34 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 1080
"Shield looks too beautiful. Too well made. Like it's for knights or lords. And it look like coat of arms, no? Shields that soldier hold, I know most have no sigil or they are self-drawn or commissioned if they can afford it."
Kino is silent.
"So this gold roaring lion? I seen like it more in...in higher places, ja?"
"Even a soldier can have beautiful sigils. You just said it."
"But not many in my line. This kind of detail is expensive to make. Plus I fought for four years. So I ask again, man, where you stole it?"
Kino stares at the man, his half-eaten meal cooled by the breeze. He looks down on his bowl and resumes eating in a faster pace sparing no words until the meal is finished and while he looks back up to the man who is still looking at him he answers.
"Never really stolen. I took it."
"Same thing, no?"
"No..."
"Whose coat of arms is that?"
"Asa Family."
"Never heard of it."
"It's gone now. Used to farm and market cash crops with slaves as labor. I was born there in the family. Became a squire but never achieved knighthood. Later I protested for the slaves and killed a knight. They locked me for three years and threw me into slavery. I slaved for two more years. Every often of so they bruised and insulted my birthright. I was no different than cattle."
Kino pauses for effect, looking at each man who pay their utmost attention to him. He goes on.
"One day a certain raubritter laid upon a siege and raided the estate. I lived through but many slaves and the house's mercenaries and the few knights were lying on the ground sleeping. Walked into the castle and explored mother and father's chamber. Found this shield. Soon I had to go. I waited until midnight before I took my horse and donkey and moved on. Never looked back since."
He looks down on the shield and picks it up, knocking and rubbing his fingers across the canvas and metallic rims. When he glances at the fire and pot some men nod solemnly while others stare upon the shield or the grass as if they are contemplating to absorb this newfound history into their diaries or perceive slave-driven estates as a playground for heroics or raiding for provisions and a base or watch blood splattered on the beautiful crops and puddle around bodies like blooming hibiscuses. Kino stands up and hoists the shield on the shoulder with its guige.
"I have to go. Do you have a shop around here? I might need some armor..."
The man in orange-and-blue doublet points his finger northwards.
"Look for Grittr. If you see fanged teeth and a sallet sitting cross legged among things, it's him. Most objects for sale were looted and worn, don't expect quality craftsmanship, ja?"
Kino nods. "Thank you for the meal. Take care..."
He moves on to the north of the encampment and finds his horse and donkey fresh from the bath and are brushed by the sergeants whom he addresses and rewards them with some nels, then he takes the beasts with him and moves on with his hand holding the reins. He walks past an alley of soldiers and prostitute wagons and a large tent and soon he finds an arena where a pair of soldiers spar with wooden greatswords and one attempts to deploy half-swording maneuvers to drive the wooden blade into the armpit but lost to a flurry of blows on the head from the opposing pommel and falls onto the ground. The loser raises his hands and yields defeat before he could receive another blow and he scurries to the corner and vaults over the fence to scamper away.
The victor stands tall with legs apart and one arm akimbo as he seats his gauntleted hand on the crossguard while the sword stands on the tip of its wooden blade. He is dressed in a three-quarter suit that imitates his slashed clothing and dons a gold-trimmed close burgonet with its falling buffe drawn up on his face and his eyes are only visible behind a singular narrow slit between the two components and the hinged bevor is also seated on his neck like so.
The man catches his narrow sights on Kino who is watching him and he points his thumb at his direction and calls out.
"You! Lad with heater shield! How about a spar shield to shield with an arm of your choice? What do you wield, stranger?"
Kino approaches the fence as the spectators look on.
"I don't have any...you have a mace to spare?"
"Nay, but we have shafts. Come, climb over the fence and take up your arms. With Cassion as my witness, let me see your prowess."
Kino does as told and two young boys rush in to hand each fighter a solid wooden shaft and a single pavise shield for the armored mercenary. When both are properly equipped Kino rushes in the instant the man is en garde. He ducks and bashes his heater shield against the pelvis and pushes him until the man rams the tip of the shaft into the side of his head. He stumbles and raises his shield just in time to block a ferocious kick and parries a strike at his side and a shield bash with his own. While exchanging blows with the man he lands a few hits on the breastplate and helmet but when he raises his shield again he feels or hears no sound for two seconds before something punches him in the gut and he endures two slaps from the shaft before falling onto the ground and rolling away only to stop.
He hurriedly rises to his feet when the man strides at his direction and grits his teeth while gripping the shaft but groans when he drops onto his knee, a throbbing headache worms into his brain matter while he tries to shake it off but could only suffer more pangs. He is hoisted off the ground in the man's arms and blood is trickling along the nose when he is brought to a maiden who hurriedly tends his wounds with clean rags and a poultice.
When the rag is wrapped around his forehead the armored man leans his back against the fence and crosses his vambraced arms.
"Lad. Can you hear me?"
Kino rises his head. He nods, shutting one eye while the maiden ties the rag's knot.
"I see you can knock my suit and embrace my attacks with your shield. But you are reckless when you do strike. How about, as compensation, I can give you some demonstrations so you will be hurt less in the field?"
Kino stares at the man and the shaft. He looks back into his eyes and nods again. The man continues to look at him behind the visor.
After a brief rest and in spite of the injury, Kino returns into the arena with his shield and shaft in his hands listening to the man's sermons of conversing energy and concerns of tricking a foe into a feint. Through word of mouth and practical spars he demonstrates the importance of knowing the best time to feint an attack which when worked will render the enemy confused for scant seconds. It is within this tiny window of time that the premeditated strike must be launch and it is more effective when it is swung within the foe's blind spots. When Kino is instructed to charge at the man without warning he follows through with no hesitation only to be kicked in the chin and stumbles on the ground. He picks himself up and scowls at the man who pokes the bandaged cranium with the shaft.
"Never charge while the shitlicker is silent or far away from you," says the man. "Until his mind is unfocused by idle talk or boasts or a visual distraction, charging is off limits. Understand?"
The next hour is dedicated to learning how to trade blows as few as possible and giving no quarter when appropriate. Reaction times and anticipation are also tested and it is here that Kino gradually gets used to the rhythms of the fight and control his impulses of going berserk while also enduring more blows on his shield and swinging the shaft to land a select number of successful hits. When the hour has passed his muscles are aching and the headache returns to throb in his cranium and the man declares the lessons to be over and Kino is led away from the arena for the wounds to be reexamined by the same maiden.
When the shaft is returned and the shield is strapped on his back Kino returns to his horse and donkey. He turns his head to see the armored mercenary approaching him.
"Where do you hail from, lad?"
"A land not far from Ne'haer."
"Do you not have a place to plant your feet firm, lad?"
Kino shakes his head.
"I go where my legs carry me."
"A man is ought to find a place that will fulfill his skills for the good of himself, if not the peoples. Why not join into our ranks? You will be guaranteed meals, some equipment suitable to your art, protection and nels. What do you say?"
Kino shakes his head again.
"Thank you, but I rather live by my own means for now. There will be a better candidate than I. Always is."
The mercenary clicks his tongue.
"That is a disappointment lad. You could have develop your penchant for combat under my wings. But since you have refused, I will leave you to your own devices, but the next time we cross each other in the battlefield or a burning village, I will be willing to drag you into our arms or hasten your journey to the heavens."
The man gives Kino a salute and turns around and leaves while some onlookers watch. Kino glances at him for a while and also takes his leave with his horse and donkey, walking further northwards and passing more tents and soldiers and hanger-ons until he comes across a teepee tent fashioned from hides and furs.
In front of the tent are an assortment of gears and accruements and possibles that have seen better days and they are organized and laid down on sheets of canvas like exhibits of relics long forgotten and suspended in perpetual limbo. Squatting among the things are a shaggy figure cloaked in brown bear hide and helmeted with a visored sallet while the mouth remains exposed. It is twirling a pair of dice between its spindly fingers and looks up to Kino when it senses his presence. It snarls small rows of sharp teeth and talks.
"What doth thou seek hither, stranger?"
Kino returns the gaze.
"Are you Grittr?"
The being growls.
"That I am."
"You have a mace and some armor I can buy, Grittr?"
It produces a snarl and points its forefinger towards a couple of items near Kino's left. A pair of steel maces lay before him. They are unadorned and their former shine has been lost but their hardened steel shafts and flanged heads remain steadfast in their durabilities. On the other end of the shafts are wrapped leather grips and small finials with lanyard holes for cords or straps to be looped through.
Just above the maces are a set of leather armor featuring a cuirass, a pair of spaulders, bracers, and greaves all neatly arranged in a single file across the canvas. The hardened, boiled leather surface of each piece is etched with carvings that depict twisting branches and images of a culture from a distant land. There are small runes carved below the patterns but neither are decipherable to Kino's eyes. Seated on top of the leather cuirass is a single steel spangenhelm with a riveted faceplate with two holes for the eyes and smaller holes for ventilation on the cheeks.
Kino examines each piece of leather armor and the faceplate helmet and one of the two steel maces like a cat with narrow pupils that locks onto a particular prey and rarely moves his head until a minute passes by and he cocks his head to Grittr while wagging his finger across the armor set and maces.
"How much for one steel mace and the set of armor altogether?"
Grittr growls softly and pokes its palm as if it is counting a set price, then it names one to Kino who produces nels and counts them in his own hand. When he finds his nels plentiful enough to make his purchase he gives Grittr a nod and hands them out and it counts them again before nodding in approval and presents the set and the mace to Kino.
He takes them and stores the leather spaulders and limb pieces into the saddlebag on his donkey but tucks the mace under his belt and carries the cuirass under his arm while he dons the faceplate spangenhelm on his head and he moves on. His vision is slightly narrowed by the two holes but the helmet's smith understood their craft for they are still large enough for the wearer to see ahead of his persons and the faceplate alone snugs comfortably on Kino's nose.
When Kino is out of the encampment's range the chatter of men and women are silenced by hissing grass and a loud breeze that blows along the region like a blanket of dragon flame scorching a carpet of huts and fertile crops and villagers that shriek and scatter with raised arms like patients under the mercy of hysteria.
Last edited by Kino on Wed Feb 12, 2025 7:46 am, edited 3 times in total. word count: 2329
Notes/Warnings: And so finished my first IC thread. It took me like a week or so to write in the drafts before I can publish them into the finished thing. If there's anything amiss, lemme know.
Renown: N/A Do you want this to be considered for Mark Progression? (Y / N) N If any PC in this thread is in a faction, please list them: N Faction Points: N Wealth Points: No Collaboration: No Local Language Thread? Yes - Common
I liked the detail in your story here. It's rich with description of the fancily clad mercenaries with their big weapons and bigger attitudes. I wonder what Kino is after out there, if not just to test himself against the dangers of the world. It would seem a position in a mercenary band might be just what he could use.
The fact that he denies the opportunity suggests he has other things in mind, although it's not clear to me as a reader what those reasons are. I look forward to reading more about Kino and his adventures and aims as he makes his way through the world
Great writing.
P.S. You only claimed 3 knowledges, when you're entitled to claiming up to 6 for a solo. Please let me know if you'd like to claim 3 more, and to what skill? Thanks!
