Count Harold of Eisenburg looks out over Eisenburg, towards the northern sea. From his castle, he watches the waves, crashing at sea; the boats rocking in the harbor due to the wind and rain. He closes his shutters, as rainwater begins to pool at his feet, splattering from the windowsill onto his leather shoes. His brass buckle shines brightly, spattered with water. He returns to his table, where his map sits, and looks down at it. It is a map of his realm, with markers representing each vintenary and soldier at his fingertips.
His page, Markvart, walks in, after knocking. Markvart, like Harold, is an average looking Imperial, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Unlike Harold, he wears the clothes of a Yeoman of sorts; though he owns no land.
"What is it, Markvart. News from Sir Ute?" Harold says. Days prior, when Count Marko of Pilzstein, a neighboring Count declared a claim to his city of Eisenburg, he sent Sir Ute of Grundorf to handle a diplomatic mission, with orders to settle this without bloodshed. "Anubus willing, this will be done and over with, as long as He is watching me."
"No, Sire. A message has came from Count Marko. It is a ransom note for Sir Ute!" The page says, in a low voice that gives away the fact he is quite scared of how the Count will react.
"What?! How dare he! What is the amount, my boy?" Harold says, thrusting his hand to the right and into the air, knocking over a goblet of fine Brandy while he does so. "I swear, Anubus willing, I shall have his head for this!"
"80£, Sire. The note also established further claims to Eisenburg." The page says. Harold listens in silence, shocked completely. "He says that years ago, his great-grandfather Count Ysvelt II the Sea-Lord had laid claim to it, and had it under his control when the Robber Baron was at his greatest power. He says that, even if you pay the 80£, you must surrender Eisenburg or face war."
Harold is silent, contemplating. He is silent for a long time; only the pitter-patter of rain against the ornate wooden shutters is heard for a long time. Finally, he speaks.
"If it is war the Bastard wants, it is war he shall have. Call all my vassals; send word to Wiesenburg and Ackerthal. Have Orsted and Oskar of Wiesenburg here as fast as possible, and tell the Burgrave of Ackerthal to ready the garrison. Start sending letters to the forts and towns; summon the Auxilia and the Levies." The Count says, in a quick and irrational voice. Though, no Lowborn or Highborn would act any different, with such absurd claims being made.
The page excuses himself, already calling for the messengers to ready their Palfreys and for the scribes to begin drafting letters. The Count himself opens the window back up, this time to look over his lands, and towards the East, over the Blauwald. He sees nothing but darker clouds and more rain.
Raenius is a Cavalryman, who hails from Ironfast. He was born to a big household of unguilded farmers, spending his early years as a squire and porter for local patrols. He also served as an escort for those inside the city he hailed from, Isenhold, at times. Later in life, with the skills he picked up from those jobs, he became a mercenary in various petty wars between lords, usually as a supply caravan escort. He knows many heraldic designs, which is a general plus for many that wish to hire him.
This job eventually gave him the funds to buy a horse and armor, something uncommon for those in his occupation. However, during a regional famine, Raenius came unto hard times. He had to eat his horse during an expedition in the winter, stranded in a valley in the southern Imperial lands. He joined a caravan as an escort north once the snow cleared, but he was rusty in combat skills and somewhat frail. However, Anubus smiled upon him, giving him a turn of luck. Perhaps this war will earn him some coin and restore his former glory as a Cavalryman.
Manwell is, at his core, a softie. Born to a widow of two and growing up as an Ostler, he loved spending time with the horses. The money was merely a side benefit. However, once he grew older, his mother and brother both died due to illness. He thought his luck turned sour, so he swiftly enlisted into the army as an Auxilia to try to turn his luck back. Despite standard issue being a Spear and Sword, he much preferred using a pick, though he was unsure as to why. Due to his brute strength, he quickly rose in the ranks of the army.
However, on one fateful day, in a battle against many goblins, he slammed a pick into a vile mountain goblin's skull, the pick sinking deep inside its wretched skull. Attempting to carelessly yank it out, his pick slipped, flying back and hitting him in the head. This blow was severe enough to cause some brain damage, and so his Lord decided to retire him. Renouncing the simple life, he gave his land to his brother and set out as a mercenary, being hired by many companies. Eventually, he made his way north upon hearing about the apparent tension between the two Counts, in hopes that he could smash some skulls once again.
Das is an odd man. He speaks in a thick accent; most say it sounds like what they'd imagine their great-great grandfathers would speak like. However, he is a Cleric, and a trained one at that, something very few can attest to accomplishing. He also doesn't speak much of who he is nor his past, a quite mysterious man. Yet, he cares deeply for the life of his companions and knows many spells and magicks to heal those who are injured. He travels with two massive hounds, at least 350 pounds in size between the two of them; closer in size to a pony rather than a hound! The hounds are black with thick fur, and are extensively trained by Das.
Aleksander of Isenhold is an Imperial born in the slums of his place of birth, Isenhold. When he was young, he saw knights and nobles parade through his streets with opulent wealth and vibrant colors, while his siblings died of starvation and sickness. He even saw men drowning in mud, unable to move from a lack of food. He desired that sort of life for himself, not wanting to live in squalor and mud forever and give that sort of life to his children.
He made his living as a thief with a silver tongue; after all, he was born under the Sign of the Thief. His nights were filled with dashing through the streets, pickpocketing those who flaunted their wealth and stealing goods from caravans through their locked containers. It was said he could slip out of any situation like a slimy eel, and even if he was caught, he could charm his way out with a smile and a soft gaze. Once he became an adult, he realized that Anubus frowned upon his ways. However, he also realized that mercenary and exploration work... well, he knew that was the way to make real coin. He set out, traveling to the western coast, to find a company worthy of his talent -- with perfect timing, as always.
Gaabriel was a Miller. What more is there to say? In reality, plenty. Growing up, he felt like he was the only one in his family with a common sense, despite his constant loss of his temper. When Maned horsemen from the East raided his farmstead in the east, he watched those that he loved and cared about disemboweled and killed. For a long time, this left him unable to speak. However, eventually he reduced this to a mere "shyness", as many perceived it.
As soon as he could, he enlisted into the military. He was quite good at being a soldier. Enlisting as an Auxilia, he soon became a Man-at-Arms, faster than usual. He tended to not sleep well in the army, but always took look-out anyway, as he would protect his men over himself. During a defense against the eastern Maned horsemen, they managed to capture one, and put it into a cage. In a turn of uncomely behavior, during the night at their camp, Gaabriel flayed and slashed the Maned man.
He was discharged for this, with no land or pay, but he was allowed to keep his equipment. For this, he was heralded as a criminal, though many would believe and agree with his opinion that no Men of the Mane are free of sin. For now, however, he is a nomad, living from city to city, looking for a mercenary band to take him in.
Arlan of Aberdeen is a Hedge Knight; well, at least, he says he is one. Wielding a Longsword and sporting no armor, he is not quite what one thinks of when they hear the word "Knight". Regardless, he is a stoic man, and a tall one at that, standing at somewhere near 8' tall (~243cm), he sticks out like a pine tree among saplings. To make it worse, his clothes probably cost as much as a Byrnie, of which he will probably not afford.
He dislikes brigands heavily, but does not speak much about it, at least to those he does not know. Most think he is just holding a grudge from some bandits that wronged him in the past. He also is quite fond of and sympathetic towards those who practice the Esoteric. He also seems to always be tired; some might say he is too stubborn to sleep while there is so much to be done.
All these men have one thing in common: they're in search of money. Not adventure, not glory, not the meaning of life. Money; which is what they found. They all found each other through a roguish-type, named Carter of the Alleys. Carter is a short Imperial with black hair and green eyes, with a stubby round nose and stubble.
Carter has arranged a simple cargo mission; bring a box no larger than a chicken in size, to Pilzstein, across the border. It isn't far, and he's arranged a sum of £2.5 to be split amongst the group once it arrives to its location. They are yet to decide individually on if those terms are acceptable, especially with the strange circumstances of no man knowing another.
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