Recent content by Mannelig

"Banner is a relative term," he stated with a dismissive wave after shaking the newcomer's hand. "Nobility is not required to have one, but that's not important. What is important is getting in." "Teleportation isn't something I'd prefer, but if its necessary, then its necessary. That said, I...

"You've no idea," Mannelig grumbled, doing his best to remember, yet not remember exactly what had just happened. He wasn't a fan of magic in most forms, least of all this kind, whatever it was. He quietly told himself he was hallucinating, that some strange man hadn't just stuck a mouth over...

"Consider it a bit of professional courtesy," he said with a shrug. "Mixed with a healthy dose of concern, though that's likely not the perfect word to use. If you're wanting to continue the lifestyle of an assassin, your best bet is to be thorough and trust your gut." He gestured to the inn...

"Sit down and put your anger elsewhere for a moment," the mercenary shot back, his free hand waving aside the other man's anger. "Its an ancient poem of my people from centuries ago, possibly even older. The thing drags on about morality and nobility and the dozen signs for the chosen one of the...

He listened to the man's retort and watched him as he stood to leave. Sighing, Mannelig dredged up a dusty remnant of his memory of his past. "Lock and key and magic ward Buries not a dragon's hoard. Scales of iris, hair of brass Chains unseen, bars of glass. Man of iron, steel of soul Born and...

He poured himself a mug of ale and noted the man's comment on refraining alcohol before pulling a waterskin from the supplies and tossing it to the man; Volker, if he remembered correctly. The mercenary took a healthy slug from his mug and sat down, mulling over what the stranger had said...

Gods help him, the man was serious. Mannelig pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly to himself for a moment. He'd spent over twenty odd years traveling the world, fighting wars for other people, wandering into the horizon chasing gold and this fell into his lap. He had almost reached...

Frowning, he was about to ask the old man if he'd gotten in to a batch of mushrooms in the woods when the man held up a copper scale. Things now took a distinctively different turn and he'd be damned if knew what way they'd go. The mercenary paused for a moment or two to think before speaking...

One of the pickets had run back and found Mannelig awake and waiting. "I'm guessing its not a bear and from the look on your face, its not some poor orphan looking for a crust of bread, either," he said tiredly as the man opened his mouth. "No, sir," the picket said, jabbing a thumb over his...

The campfires crackling and the quiet nickering of horses nearby had started to lull him to sleep when he heard a picket call out. It didn't sound panicked, concerned, or otherwise hinting at a dangerous situation, nor did it come accompanied with war cries, buzzing arrows flying through the...

His knee ached. It was the unpleasant, hollow, dull ache of too many years in the saddle, too many battles fought, and too many poor decisions made during an eventful youth. It was the kind of ache that reminded him of injuries and losses, victories and long marches. Nowadays, though, it...

"Malak, eh?" Mannelig leaned back in his chair a moment and sipped his ale. "Fur trader a few villages west of here, if I remember correctly. Little rat-faced fellow. Pock marks all over his face. Looks like he'd bolt for the door if you so much as breathed at him harshly. He's not the type to...

Mannelig wiggled his hand back and forth at the woman's comment on his rank. "Eh, Captain works as well as any other. Depends on the culture I'm working with. Most like to call me Captain, but I've been called Colonel a few times; Once some noble fop called me a Hetman, whatever rank that is."...

“You’re absolutely shite as an assassin, y’know that, right?” Mannelig sheathed his sword and cocked his head at the assassin on the floor before and a little distance from him. Around the inn his men stood, half ready to fight and the rest about halfway there. Most patrons had cleared out or...

Mannelig listened to the exchange and its longevity for a few minutes before shrugging internally and passing off the parchment that was, essentially, a bill to a nearby servant to the woman on the throne. Satisfied that his obligation was done, he meandered off to his men. Knowing most nobility...