I am finally able to write of my experiences with the mercenary that had promised to tutor me on the ways of combat. It turns out the whole matter had been a ruse designed to lure me to a remote field at a time when the more fervent revellers would likely be stumbling back to their respective camps, allowing their drunken noises and the deceptive light of dawn to mask my “teacher’s” intentions. When I arrived at the indicated location, my tutor and a pair of his friends lay in wait for me. They sought to rob me and leave me beaten or worse in the field, but when they grabbed me and broke my wrist after finding nothing of value upon my person (truly, what did they expect of a wandering lay monk? A purse full of gold? Gemstones?) my cry thankfully attracted the sheriff as he made his final rounds of the evening. . . . → Read More: The First Lesson
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I arrived at Taervas two days ago and the caravan that brought me here left yesterday after selling much of their wares to the locals. I must say that, according to the village’s reputation, I expected something more … I do not know … dramatic? I guess. On the way into the village, I counted the banners of no less than eight mercenary companies camped in the fields around the village. My understanding is that only a relative few members from each are allowed into Taervas at a time so as to prevent past animosities between companies that have fought each other from boiling over control within Taervas itself. I have noted there is a steady stream of quartermasters and supply wagons between the village and the campgrounds. . . . → Read More: Back to School |
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