“Some say that living as an adventurer and a merc tends to be little different. I kinda agree on that.
You get a job, you go out and do it, then go back to report and get your pay, rinse and repeat. Usually it’s just the manner of job that differs. I guess there’s more training involved, for formation warfare and the likes, as a merc, but then again, them adventurers also drilled and practiced to tackle harder targets like large beasts, so again, it’s not THAT different either.
Biggest difference is that one group can pretend that they’re nice people who wouldn’t hurt others, while the other don’t give a fuck about it either way.” - Volov Noomes, retired mercenary.
By the time dawn arrived and the camp began to stir to life once more, the recently awakened young mercenaries got out of their tents - some from another’s tent, even, as they were young after all - to prepare for the day’s remaining travels. Some went and relieved Ery’s group from guard duty, while others went to take care of the captured horses and prisoners.
What all of them noticed right away was the fragrant meaty aroma that wafted through the air, though, as Aurora had started cooking for their breakfast hours ago. Nothing hefty like their dinner, just a thin soup with plenty of bones and minced horsemeat to flavor it, which the young mercs could then use to dip and soften their breads in, as well as helping warm their bellies on the relatively cold morning.
As they ate - Ery’s group was the first in line, as they had cooked the stuff too after all - and warmed their bellies with the hot, meaty broth and stale bread turned soft after a dunk into the soup, they quickly made way for the next group to eat, while they went and took down their tents and other preparations for the trip to come. Ery would have certainly preferred freshly-baked, fluffy bread over stale, hard ones, but nobody had invented bread that would not go stale after prolonged storage yet, and the few stasis-enchanted storages the company had were used for more important things.
It was an involved process to take down and pack up their tents, but one that the young mercenaries were trained in. That day they happened to take their time, since everyone else was still eating and they were in no hurry, and the camp was cleared in an hour. If they had to do it quickly though, the group were trained to completely pack up everything within five minutes or less.
By the time the hour had passed, the young mercenaries were back on the road, the only sign of their stay in the camping area being the remnants of fires which had been meticulously put out. The captives were more cooperative that day, after Ery relented and ordered for them to be given a ration of stale bread in the morning so they had the energy to walk all the way to Fort Kazka. The one commander of the bunch who still tried to resist all the while was kept tied up and left to his own devices, though.
The roads were pretty abandoned and quiet that morning, but then again, quiet roads in this region had been the norm since the civil war started and the Duchy got on the bad side of its western neighbors. Trade still went on, but mostly within the competing factions only, and not between them. Dvergarder had been more fortunate, as the dwarves of Knallzog had been keen to open a direct trade relationship with them, something they had done covertly before, now just done openly.
Jonkver had suffered more though. The Duchy’s location used to make it the trade hub of eastern Posuin, but most of that trade came from the west. With the halting of most trade from that direction, the Duchy’s economy took a bit of a painful hit, one it had yet to fully recover from. Their neighbors in Algenverr and Dvergarder were less impacted as neither Duchy were that reliant on trade and were heavier on their own agricultures instead.
Ery had heard from her father - probably information that was not meant for someone of her position in the Company, but her parents rarely kept secrets from her - that there were similar attacks aimed at Dvergarder and Algenverr as well, but those had met with less success. Both Dvergarder and Algenverr had built their forts further west than Jonkver, and had gathered the people of the few villages westward of the fortifications and brought them to the east.
Jonkver had no such leeway as a sizable number of their population lived in the western ends of their territory, villages and towns that used to prosper thanks to the frequent passages of merchants and other traders. It was why the spoiling attacks affected them so much more compared to their neighbors, which either caught the attack before it could even do any harm or put them down with extreme prejudice swiftly.
From the camp ground, it was not too far a distance to Fort Kazka. By the time the sun rose directly above their heads and warmed up the day, the fortification came into sight, and Ayrie’s sharp eyes noted the number of tents pitched around the fort, those of their Company. The others had gathered there ahead of them, much like they expected.
On the other hand, Ayrie also noticed that she saw no signs yet of the other two groups who were assigned to guard the other two roads likely used by the raiders, so Ery’s group was likely the first to return out of the three. That was a good thing, as while she saw the others in the Company as her compatriots, there remained a good sense of competition between them.
As such, Erycea led her platoon towards the fort with easy steps, their captives - both men and horses - kept in the midst of their marching order, and walked with their heads held high towards where the rest of the Company had set up their tents.
Not too soon, either, for just as they were about to reach the fort, some of them noticed the approach of another platoon from a different road, one that they had beaten only by a matter of minutes at best.
“Some say that living as an adventurer and a merc tends to be little different. I kinda agree on that.
You get a job, you go out and do it, then go back to report and get your pay, rinse and repeat. Usually it’s just the manner of job that differs. I guess there’s more training involved, for formation warfare and the likes, as a merc, but then again, them adventurers also drilled and practiced to tackle harder targets like large beasts, so again, it’s not THAT different either.
Biggest difference is that one group can pretend that they’re nice people who wouldn’t hurt others, while the other don’t give a fuck about it either way.” - Volov Noomes, retired mercenary.
By the time dawn arrived and the camp began to stir to life once more, the recently awakened young mercenaries got out of their tents - some from another’s tent, even, as they were young after all - to prepare for the day’s remaining travels. Some went and relieved Ery’s group from guard duty, while others went to take care of the captured horses and prisoners.
What all of them noticed right away was the fragrant meaty aroma that wafted through the air, though, as Aurora had started cooking for their breakfast hours ago. Nothing hefty like their dinner, just a thin soup with plenty of bones and minced horsemeat to flavor it, which the young mercs could then use to dip and soften their breads in, as well as helping warm their bellies on the relatively cold morning.
As they ate - Ery’s group was the first in line, as they had cooked the stuff too after all - and warmed their bellies with the hot, meaty broth and stale bread turned soft after a dunk into the soup, they quickly made way for the next group to eat, while they went and took down their tents and other preparations for the trip to come. Ery would have certainly preferred freshly-baked, fluffy bread over stale, hard ones, but nobody had invented bread that would not go stale after prolonged storage yet, and the few stasis-enchanted storages the company had were used for more important things.
It was an involved process to take down and pack up their tents, but one that the young mercenaries were trained in. That day they happened to take their time, since everyone else was still eating and they were in no hurry, and the camp was cleared in an hour. If they had to do it quickly though, the group were trained to completely pack up everything within five minutes or less.
By the time the hour had passed, the young mercenaries were back on the road, the only sign of their stay in the camping area being the remnants of fires which had been meticulously put out. The captives were more cooperative that day, after Ery relented and ordered for them to be given a ration of stale bread in the morning so they had the energy to walk all the way to Fort Kazka. The one commander of the bunch who still tried to resist all the while was kept tied up and left to his own devices, though.
The roads were pretty abandoned and quiet that morning, but then again, quiet roads in this region had been the norm since the civil war started and the Duchy got on the bad side of its western neighbors. Trade still went on, but mostly within the competing factions only, and not between them. Dvergarder had been more fortunate, as the dwarves of Knallzog had been keen to open a direct trade relationship with them, something they had done covertly before, now just done openly.
Jonkver had suffered more though. The Duchy’s location used to make it the trade hub of eastern Posuin, but most of that trade came from the west. With the halting of most trade from that direction, the Duchy’s economy took a bit of a painful hit, one it had yet to fully recover from. Their neighbors in Algenverr and Dvergarder were less impacted as neither Duchy were that reliant on trade and were heavier on their own agricultures instead.
Ery had heard from her father - probably information that was not meant for someone of her position in the Company, but her parents rarely kept secrets from her - that there were similar attacks aimed at Dvergarder and Algenverr as well, but those had met with less success. Both Dvergarder and Algenverr had built their forts further west than Jonkver, and had gathered the people of the few villages westward of the fortifications and brought them to the east.
Jonkver had no such leeway as a sizable number of their population lived in the western ends of their territory, villages and towns that used to prosper thanks to the frequent passages of merchants and other traders. It was why the spoiling attacks affected them so much more compared to their neighbors, which either caught the attack before it could even do any harm or put them down with extreme prejudice swiftly.
From the camp ground, it was not too far a distance to Fort Kazka. By the time the sun rose directly above their heads and warmed up the day, the fortification came into sight, and Ayrie’s sharp eyes noted the number of tents pitched around the fort, those of their Company. The others had gathered there ahead of them, much like they expected.
On the other hand, Ayrie also noticed that she saw no signs yet of the other two groups who were assigned to guard the other two roads likely used by the raiders, so Ery’s group was likely the first to return out of the three. That was a good thing, as while she saw the others in the Company as her compatriots, there remained a good sense of competition between them.
As such, Erycea led her platoon towards the fort with easy steps, their captives - both men and horses - kept in the midst of their marching order, and walked with their heads held high towards where the rest of the Company had set up their tents.
Not too soon, either, for just as they were about to reach the fort, some of them noticed the approach of another platoon from a different road, one that they had beaten only by a matter of minutes at best.
