The All-Favors Mercenary Co.!

[dave_o]

Without further adieu, I present...

A DnD3E campaign, set in my homebrew world of Eldram. It shall chronicle the trials and tribulations of a group of three companions, all joining this company for their own reasons, thrust into a war much larger than it seems.

Taking a bit from Dr. Midnight (incarnate diety of GMing), I plan to write this Story Hour in movie form. And I happen to like my movies LONG, so suspend your disbelief of the bladder-span of the common man.

***

BLACK SCREEN. Gentle din of battle can be heard in background. A sporadic clang of metal on metal makes itself known above the din.

CUT to close shot of blonde archer, pulling a bow, squinting. He is clad in red, and similarly clad fellows can be seen in background, though out of focus. Din of battle continues, with the stretch of the bowstring clear above it.

CUT to far shot of several wooden buildings. Red clad soldiers train in a yard, overshadowed by barracks and stables. The shot gently zooms out, a tall, wooden tower appearing on screen right. A massive red flag flies from the spire of this tower.

CUT to ground shot, looking up, as a red clad warrior spins a blade. Globules of blood flick off the red-stained blade as the man growls, clear over the perpetual battle din. He brings the blade to bear, and stabs it into the camera with a satisfying "sink".

CUT back to BLACK SCREEN. The All-Favors Mercenary Co. logo falls onto the black, from the camera. It lands with a clang of metal, and hundreds of voices rise in a cheer.

 

[dave_o]

Kaisa's Tale (Player Background)

LOGO SCREEN fades to exterior shot of a small, modest homestead. Far in the distance the village of Deal can be seen, all shadowed gently by the surrounding woodlands. Camera PANS downward, toward the home, revealing carefully tended plants and flowers about it. As the camera finishes it's PAN, the fact that the home sits at a crossing of three well worn dirt paths becomes apparent, mote of dust slowly rising from them.

KAISA: (clear, ringing, from inside) Sven?

CUT to interior shot of the home, Kaisa gracefully making her way down a set of rough-hewn stairs. She's a smaller, lithe thing, blonde braids hanging around her lean face. Intense blue eyes look around, slowly, as she descends, clad in a close-fitting suit of hemp braids, worn leather boots, and equally worn armor composed of sewn leather plates. She stops at the base of the stairs, her brows furrowing.

KAISA: ...Sven?

CUT to shot in next room, focused on Kaisa through the doorway. She turns into the doorway, taking a few steps, and stopping with a gasp. Camera PANS and TURNS, showing the interior of the room, and an elderly, blonde-haired and bearded man - dressed similarly to Kaisa, lying dead. Camera PANS back to Kaisa and TRACKS her as she runs across the room, falling onto his form, sobbing.

FADE to exterior shot, in the flower gardens around the home. Kaisa stands, back to the camera, scooping a shovelful of dirt in front of her, before gently letting it fall from her grasp, into the ground. She turns, and slowly walks off screen, looking downward.

CUT to shot of Kaisa standing in the doorway of the home, setting sun behind her in the background. Tears stream down her cheeks as she looks side to side, camera slowly zooming back from her, into the home. She closes her eyes, and quickly walks toward the camera. Camera TRACKS to the side, following her, as she takes a wood staff from the corner, spinning a dirty green cloak onto her shoulders, pulling it's hood up. She reaches up, taking a scimitar from the wall, and quickly shoving it into her belt with a SHING!

CUT as the SHING fades into nothing, to an exterior evening shot, zooming up and away as Kaisa's small form, wooden shield strapped to her back, makes her way up the path toward the soft, glimmering yellow lights of Deal. Camera PANS up to focus on a fluttering, red flag on a wooden tower, high above the village.

***

Kaisa is a Female Human Druid 3.

 

[dave_o]

Miradon's Tale (Player Background)

FADE TO BLACK.

FADE to exterior shot, day. Massive, truly massive trees shoot into the sky, as a man clad in blue, tiny, creeps through the undergrowth. He holds a bow at the ready, an arrow noched.

CUT to close shot of the man, his middle-aged face lined with worry. He seems to be listening intently, and makes no noise creeping through this massive forest. He stops a moment, pulling the bow taut, the string stretching audibly. A single droplet of sweat falls off his chin.

CUT to shot of man, through a flock of white birds, as they flutter past him and further into the canopy. The sound is tremendous, and he grunts, relaxing a bit as they fly away. Camera zooms into the man, before turning on his shoulder, looking out through the canopy along with him. The trees he is looking at shudder a bit, as a loud slithering echoes through the canopy. Suddenly, a serpentine head bursts through the canopy, sundering and splitting those trees. The head is of a giant, massive snake, with dark green and light brown scales, and it thunders toward the camera.

CUT to shot of man leaping and grabbing a branch, swinging himself into a tree with a flurry of blue robes, and taking a medallion worn around his neck in his hand.

CUT to close shot of man kissing the medallion, the word "IMPERIUM" clearly printed on it's surface, along with an arrow.

CUT to shot of the man, close, firing arrow after arrow into the massive snake as it coils hastily around the tree, obviously unnaffected. The man looks down worriedly.

CUT to shot of his foot slipping, and the man falling onto the coiling snake. Another coil quickly wraps him, and a sickening CRUNCH is heard, with a SCREAM.

Miradon: Ahhhhhhhh!

CUT to shot of Miradon, a youth, clad in a simple white tunic and darker pants. He quickly sits up, awakening, looking about him blearily. A bow lies by his side, on the wagon, and a quiver of arrows at his feet. Camera zooms out, revealing that Miradon sits on the back of a wagon with several others, mostly women and youths, rambling along a dirt road toward Deal. Motes of dust creep into the air behind the wagon.

CUT to shot sitting on Miradon's shoulder as he looks up at the approaching wooden tower, still a bit in the distance. A red flag flaps back and forth quickly at it's spire.

***

Miradon is a Male Human Fighter 3.

 

[dave_o]

A word on titles in the All-Favors Mercenary Co. (World Info)

The All-Favors Mercenary Co. was originally founded approximately fifty years ago, in the village of Deal. Deal was a tiny village, recently founded as a frontier-town by the illustrious Finnius, retired merchant and sailor hailing from the Bay of Blades in North Ulin. (World map coming soon, but for expediancy, Ulin is the world's main continent. The Bay of Blades is at the very top, and Deal is far south of it, in the middle of Ulin.) As in accordance with Imperial doctorine, an "Imperial Inn" was established by the Imperium, in Deal, to be the King's voice in the small frontier-town.

And, in accordance with Imperial doctorine, the Imperium did nothing to protect Deal from the goblinoid tribes becoming more and more pinned between the Mistytop Mountains (west of Deal), and expanding civilization and settlement (Deal and east).

Among Finnius' contingent was a woodsman, named Darrus. Having fought tooth and nail to help Finnius establish this town (and having more than a few jealous stares at Finnius' masses of wealth), Darrus decided to found a protectorate all their own. And so, the All-Favors Mercenary Co. was born - their trademark color red picked specificly as it was the opposite of Imperial Blue.

Being founded by a woodsman, ranking in the All-Favors Mercenary Co. is as such:

Scout: The lowest rank in All-Favors, the main body of the company lies here. Scouts can be tasked to a variety of missions, but mainly serve as rank and file troops. The rank of Scout is further divided into Arrow Scouts and Blade Scouts. It's rather obvious what each does.

Woodsman: This rank typically has around ten Scouts under it. Woodsmen are true Johnny-On-The-Spots. They make quick, tough, and critical decisions concerning their small contingent of troops and use those men to the best of their abilities. Unlike most military bodies, these commanding officers actually fight alongside their soldiers. It is perhaps this comradery that is the key to All-Favors' success.

Master Woodsman: Master Woodsmen usually have twenty Scouts, and two Woodsmen below them. A Master Woodsman simply does the job of a Woodsman, only with a greater body of troops.

Woodsman General: These men form the closest thing to aristocracy that exists in All-Favors. They stay away from the actual battle lines, forming a general council which makes decisions about the company as a whole. This council meets on a need basis, and is headed up by the Forrester.

Forrester: The be-all head of the All-Favors Mercenary Co., this position is held by it's founder, Darrus. Though aged now, he is still incredibly valiant, incredibly strong, and a definite force to be reckoned with.

***

As the company grew to nearly dominate Deal, as it does today, the Imperium replied by founding Swift Turquoise (an elite archery unit) and His King's Blades (a less elite sword unit) there. As such, Deal has swelled, as a strong military, especially a mercenary company, almost always warrants a strong economy.

 

[dave_o]

A few maps of Deal and the surrounding area (World Info)

Deal.

Deal and surrounding area.

 

[dave_o]

Rogue's Gallery (Meta)

Just a post to give a link to the Rogue's Gallery thread for this story hour, found here: http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=40492 !

***

It's crazy, all these posts without a single game session yet. But worry not, once I've got the third character in place it'll be good times.

This campaign is a first in many ways, it's the first non-horror/epic campaign run in Eldram, it's my first mercenary company based campaign (something I've been wanting to do for a while), and it's the first campaign I'll have DMed with my girlfriend in.

She plays Kaisa, btw.

 

[Dispater]

why do you write it like a screenplay?

 

[dave_o]

Eh. I'm not really sure. It seemed like a good idea, at first, but I think that I'm gonna be shifting to narrative form, soon.

I guess I just like to be different.

So, that's an offical decree: narrative form soon! I hesitated at first because I tend to wax poetic, but, I then realized - that's not a bad thing.

 

[dave_o]

Lukewarm Welcomes (Game Session)

The great, burning globe of the sun crept slowly over the edge of wilderness, near Deal. The coming dawn lengthened shadows all over, creating shades of all that is. And yet, the most important shadows cast that day were, perhaps, the shadows cast by a small, one-horse wagon gently rambling toward the village of Deal, and the small figure trudging along slightly ahead of it.

Miradon sat, albiet uncomfortably, in the back of that very wagon. At his feet slept a quiver of arrows, rocking to and fro. He was a tall, lithe youth, his long, dark hair tied neatly behind him. A white tunic and dark breeches were, other than a light travel-stain of dust, quite crisp and clean. Across from him, among the various crates situated among the wagon, sat a dark haired, middle aged maiden, a tiny child in her lap.

Gently, the wagon ground to a halt. Miradon lifted in his seat a bit to see what the cause was, and to his surprise, the driver was speaking to another traveller on the road to Deal.

"Hold there! Headed to Deal?" shouted the driver, attempting to get the traveller's attention.

Turning around quickly, almost reflexively, the traveller spoke with hood pulled low and a voice high, clear, and female, "What's it to you?"

"To me?" the driver recliner a bit, a smile cracking the corner of his mouth, "Ahhh. I simply wondered if a girl such as yourself would be in need of a ride."

"...Ah. That would be most welcome," came her low reply.

And with that, she sat herself next to Miradon. His slight "Morning." gained little more than a cold shrug from our new traveller, and the wagon rambled on toward the breaking dawn over Deal.

***

Within a few hours, that very wagon was rolling between Othos and Ethos, the massive, twin stone towers standing just outside of Deal. Several men, clad in bright red tunics cut into a sort of skirt above the knees mill about them, some carrying blades, others with bows perched on their backs. Miradon breaks into a grin at the sight of fellow archers, here. Once again, the wagon rolls to a stop, and an older, gray-haired soldier with close-cropped locks approaches the wagon.

"Metals, right?" he speaks in a rough, smooth voice.

Mid-speech, he walks to the back of the wagon, before chuckling and whistling low at Miradon.

"Don't go filling some folk full of holes, eh?" he then turns, noting the wicked scimtar belted at the second travellers side, which he indicates with a gentle tap, "A fine piece of steel that, too."

From beneath her hood, she speaks slowly, a smile spreading across the only part of her face visible, "Yes, with a keen edge."

And Miradon, gently, "Don't worry, sir."

The old solider laughs, "Got enough mercenaries in town, already! Don't need anymore!" and with a slap, the wagon is on it's way.

Within a few moments of rolling through the sleepy village, seeing the red-clad men all about, the wagon rolls to a final stop in front of what appears to be a trading post. Miradon and the traveller begin to unload the crates from the back of the wagon, in payment for their passage, and when the deed is done the driver claps each on the back, smiling.

"I don't know much about this village, but I'll be glad to tell you what I do. Where you headed?" he holds a hand up to the traveller, "And I apologize if it ain't my business."

"I had planned to join the All-Favors Mercenary Company. Could you possibly direct me there?" Miradon quietly asked.

"I'm heading the same place as the kid," the traveller quips.

"Kid?" asks Miradon, and is simply coldly ignored by the traveller.

"All-Favors, huh. This whole triangular place is theirs, they're fine folks. I think the recruitment office is around the corner, there," he gestures to the end of the road.

And so the two say their goodbyes, and make their way to the All-Favors Mercenary Company recruitment office. Miradon walks a few careful paces behind the traveller, who throws her hood back to reveal brilliant, blonde locks in tangled braids all about her head. Quietly, Miradon calls out to her.

"I'm Miradon. Mind if I ask your name, since we seem to share a destination?"

She turns, blinking her eyes a few times. "I'm Kaisa," and suddenly, her hand is thrust outward. Miradon takes her hand, shaking it healthily, as her eyes drop to his hand.

"Nice grip, your stronger than you look," she says, smirking.

"Sorry. Sometimes, I forget my own strength," Miradon replies, shaking his head slightly.

And so the two come, at last, to a sturdy wood structure marked "Recruitment" in careful lettering. Each steps inside, in turn, and find a well-kept interior, the walls lined with rough-hewn benches from a wood shades darker than the building itself. Light pours in from the doorway behind them, splaying over the well-polished desk directly before them, a blonde-haired youth seated behind it, staring down into a ledger. Slowly, he casts owl-like blue eyes upward, and his quill is at the ready.

"Related?"

Kaisa does her best to stifle a laugh, casting a gaze at Miradon. He keeps his formal tone, shaking his head slowly.

"Not to my knowledge."

After a few moments of scribbling, the youth jabs his quill at Kaisa.

"Name?"

"Kaisa."

A few more scribbles. "Armed?"

She grins. "You bet your arse I am."

The youth nods, scribbling a few more times. "Blade Scouts or Arrow Scouts?"

"Blade."

Suddenly, the quill is jabbed likewise at Miradon.

"Name?"

"Miradon."

"Armed? Blade or Arrow?"

Miradon gestures smoothly to his bow. "I think that answers both questions."

After a few more scribbles, the youth stands, walking into a doorway tucked behind the desk. He returns with two bright red tunics flung over his arms, which he in turn shoves into Miradon and Kaisa's faces. Kaisa does little to hide her disgust.

"Not your style, Kaisa?" Miradon quips, as Kaisa continues her disgust.

"So, should I just strip hee, or are there barracks somewhere else?" Kaisa asks, manner-of-factly.

The youth yanks a few pages from the ledger, shoving them into our heroes faces.

"Patience. You two can read, right?"

Miradon scoffs. "Are you kidding?"

The youth lowers his eyes a degree. "Does it appear like I am kidding?"

Kaisa steps in, smiling. "Now, now boys."

"In any case," the youth sighs, "these papers prove that you are in fact Blade Scouts and Arrow Scouts, respectively, in the All-Favors Mercenary Company. As such, they are slightly important. Based on your inquiry, miss, you will be requiring company provided housing. I presume your friend will need likewise?"

They nod in the affirmative.

"I shall show you to the barracks, shortly. You are now known here-after as Scout Miradon and Scout Kaisa. You may even signs your names Miradon, Scout AFMC, if you wish."

"How...quaint," Kaisa quips.

"Since you appear to be such well-off friends, I have assigned you both to Calain's Company. You will need to report to Woodsman Calain shortly." The youth now takes a slightly somber tone. "As for your stripping, miss. As you have seen we are mostly a male company. I would watch your attitude, and do try not to get raped. Not everyone will be as...civilized, as myself. In fact, please change in the back, here. I don't want to be responsible."

In a few moments, Kaisa has changed, with much complaining about the particular color of her tunic, and Miradon is just finishing up.

The youth stands near Kaisa. "On the red. It is, quite simply, a direct protest to the Imperium, which.."

Kaisa shoves her scimitar into his grasp, bending to lace her boot. "Hold that for a minute, aye?"

He stands, startled a moment, before continuing. "...which holds blue as the chief color in it's heraldry."

Soon, Miradon returns, also wearing his red All-Favors tunic. The three make their way to the barracks, mostly in silence. As they near their destination, the youth pipes up.

"Your silence is quite a contrast to your friend here, Scout Miradon."

"A closed mouth gathers no foot," Miradon replies with a slight smirk.

And with that, the youth left Kaisa and Miradon to enter the barracks. The structure was pretty much a straight shot all the way through, no walls, just clumps of ragged, filthy men - all wearing the All-Favors colors proudly. As soon as Kaisa and Miradon stepped into the room, a chorus of catcalls went up at the girl.

"Ooooo!" "Can I have 'er?" "I might skin ye for ye girlie there, Scout!"

"Gentlemen!" Miradon shouts, to little avail, "She's no one's girlie, least all of yours."

Kaisa turns to the nearest man, a dark-haired filthy man, missing teeth and worse.

"Where do I sleep?" she asks, coldly.

He grabs her hand in a filthy mitt, "Wif' me, girlie."

She nods, pushing his things off the bed nearest him, angrily retucking the sheets. He steps to her, planting his hands along her waist and grinning a toothless grin.

"That were easier thin' I though'!"

But, suddenly, he is on the ground from a quick, violent thrust of Kaisa's quarterstaff. Before the crack of his knee had even faded, Miradon had an arrow pointed at his throat, glaring.

"Damn ye, thin'! She's yer girlie!"

Miradon shakes his head slowly. "Not mine."

***

Sorry about the length. I just want to fit in all this rad dialogue! In any case, feedback is welcome. And the length should probably change to a bit shorter, unless my audience wishes otherwise?

And players! Feel free to use this as an OOC thread.

 

[dave_o]

Calain's Tale (Player Background)

Rough hands run across the knotted wood, fingers tracing the grain with a grace and gentleness that comes only with experience.

“You’re my damned boy, I own you and everything you do!”

Carefully, the hands pick up a small saw from the table, skillfully sawing off a protrusion, skillfully filing down the lump to smooth perfection.

“You have no claim to what I have made.”

A hammer pounds a wooden nail into a perfectly shaped hole as the hands grasp a cup and pour just a few drops of water around the edge, expanding the wood to create the perfect fit.

“You have made nothing! Everything you have is because of me! I kept you, fed you, sheltered you. You are worthless.”

The file slides across the wood, smoothing out the rough spots that still remain on the legs and the seat.

“You will not have my money.”
Footsteps. He leaves the home, his father screaming at his back as the door slams shut.

The hands draw a brush across the wood, coating it in a thin layer of smooth lacquer.

The door opens once again, and he reenters his hell. A bottle narrowly misses his head, shattering into a dozen pieces all about him as the man who created him charges, eyes wild and bloodshot.

The brush is dipped in the lacquer to prepare for a second coat.

A sound of a blade drawn in the darkness. A glint of light off the cold steel.

The finished piece is set on the table to dry, a sturdy creation, a work of diligence and flawless artistry.

The feel of the blade slicing flesh, of the butcher cutting the meat. The eyes…not bloodshot, but tearful. The face, horrified.

Oh God…

The man screams, his hand coming down on the newly made chair, the finish ruined, the piece falling to the ground with a loud clatter as tools fall about it.

The fire welling up inside as the fire of her life rolls down his blade and onto his hand; wet, warm. The rage. Another cut as his father’s head rolls to the ground.

The hand grips the table, shaking uncontrollably, causing the whole countertop to convulse with his memory.

That incredible pit inside of him, the color exploding in his eyes, the final decision to finish his morbid sculpture. The agony as he throws himself upon that awful blade…

He tumbles to the ground, the sobs coming freely now, his sunken eyes rolling upward to gaze upon the soiled blade that hangs on the wall, unmoved for a decade, the blood still caked upon it, the cold glint gone, replaced only by darkness…

…The fire gone, replaced only by darkness…