- Messages
- 14
- Character Biography
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"You are being paid handsomely to protect me, are you sure these children are up to the task?" The swarthy man who had asked the question look pensive as he said it, stalking back and forth on the deck of the flat bottomed boat as he examined each of his would be protectors. Twelve children stood at attention, lined up by height with the tallest in the middle and the shorter and younger spreading outward on both sides - each wore heavy padded armor of deep blues, looking out place in the sweltering heat of the sands which were visible both sides of the bow of the moving ship as it sailed up the Baal-Asha river.
"I guarantee it, Sahib." The man standing behind and to the right of the dusky merchant said, his avaricious smile a common sight for the children. Captain Rainulf d'Athée, founder of the Order d'Athée and 'adopted father' to many hundreds of children was relatively famous throughout Liadain - not for his skill as a mercenary general, or for his many victories but for his often controversial soldiers. For Order d'Athée made extensive use of child soldiers, from orphans of towns caught up in his battles to slaves bought cheap from Cerak At'Thul; a reprehensible man employed only by those of questionable character.
"Oh? Are they truly so great, the largest one is but what? One and hundred thirty pounds?" Sahib Makhmud asked, his sickly yellow eyes finally meeting the gaze of each child and turn before stopping on the oldest and largest. Owain did not flinch from the predatory gaze of the Merchant Lord, his own gray eyes cold and empty. "They are battle hardened, how many soldiers can say that these days with the relative peace that has settled? And he " Rainulf motioned toward Owain, a confident expression on his face. "has fought on these sands before, in defense of Pasha Saymur as I'm sure he informed you before you hired us, no? Worse case scenario they will die for us, so our adult soldiers, the famed d'Athée Cavalry, can defend you." Rainulf seemed to consider it a matter of fact, rather then threat or even lip service - for that was what the child soldiers of Order d'Athée were trained to be; to die so the paid mercenaries which served as the command structure and cavalry did not have too.
It was a simple but effective tactic, the children served as infantry to pin enemy forces down and the cavalry swept in and killed. Casualty rate was immense, but a taught fanaticism to their 'father' kept their ranks from breaking. In recent years the number of battles had dwindled, as did the opportunity to acquire orphans from battlefields and so most who now served the Order d'Athée were purchased slaves - a famously cheap man in Rainulf meant that over the years fewer and fewer children served in his Order. The grand staged battlefields had vanished, replaced with protection detail mostly in the dangerous lands of Amol-Kalit, the savage Sultan's and bandit warlords still happy to kill each other while much of the world had fallen to the temptation of peace.
With a motion of his hand Rainulf commanded Owain, who suddenly stepped forward rigidly and for what seemed like the first time registered the existence of Sahib Makhmud. "If you wish to test his worth, we can arrange a friendly match between him and one of your personal guards." Rainulf said, and the smoldering gray eyes of showed that Owain was eager at the prospect of crossing swords - it was enough to convince Sahib. "No need, Sir d'Athée - he is clearly quite fierce." The Merchant Lord mused, his disgusting eyes filled with another emotion entirely. "Do they serve you, truly serve?" Sahib asked, his voice dripping with an uncomfortable tone.
Rainulf cleared his throat. "They do, for an increased fee." The Mercenary Captain said, his smile replaced with a stern expression focused on Owain. An unspoken command to obey or face consequences. Sahib stroked his chin for a time, examining the boy from a distance before nodding once. "If we make it my manor, arrange it Sir d'Athée. I do not think such activites would work with my stomach on these waters." Sahib Makhmud said, his tone downcast. "Of course." Captain Rainulf said, his stern salute as the Merchant Lord left the last sign of respect he would show for the man, spitting where he once stood. "Fuckin uppity desert rat, can't wait to be done with these sand savages and get back to real war." Captain d'Athée spat, approaching Owain and setting a large hand on his white haired head and ruffling it.
Owain did not react, his gray eyes staring straight ahead.
"I guarantee it, Sahib." The man standing behind and to the right of the dusky merchant said, his avaricious smile a common sight for the children. Captain Rainulf d'Athée, founder of the Order d'Athée and 'adopted father' to many hundreds of children was relatively famous throughout Liadain - not for his skill as a mercenary general, or for his many victories but for his often controversial soldiers. For Order d'Athée made extensive use of child soldiers, from orphans of towns caught up in his battles to slaves bought cheap from Cerak At'Thul; a reprehensible man employed only by those of questionable character.
"Oh? Are they truly so great, the largest one is but what? One and hundred thirty pounds?" Sahib Makhmud asked, his sickly yellow eyes finally meeting the gaze of each child and turn before stopping on the oldest and largest. Owain did not flinch from the predatory gaze of the Merchant Lord, his own gray eyes cold and empty. "They are battle hardened, how many soldiers can say that these days with the relative peace that has settled? And he " Rainulf motioned toward Owain, a confident expression on his face. "has fought on these sands before, in defense of Pasha Saymur as I'm sure he informed you before you hired us, no? Worse case scenario they will die for us, so our adult soldiers, the famed d'Athée Cavalry, can defend you." Rainulf seemed to consider it a matter of fact, rather then threat or even lip service - for that was what the child soldiers of Order d'Athée were trained to be; to die so the paid mercenaries which served as the command structure and cavalry did not have too.
It was a simple but effective tactic, the children served as infantry to pin enemy forces down and the cavalry swept in and killed. Casualty rate was immense, but a taught fanaticism to their 'father' kept their ranks from breaking. In recent years the number of battles had dwindled, as did the opportunity to acquire orphans from battlefields and so most who now served the Order d'Athée were purchased slaves - a famously cheap man in Rainulf meant that over the years fewer and fewer children served in his Order. The grand staged battlefields had vanished, replaced with protection detail mostly in the dangerous lands of Amol-Kalit, the savage Sultan's and bandit warlords still happy to kill each other while much of the world had fallen to the temptation of peace.
With a motion of his hand Rainulf commanded Owain, who suddenly stepped forward rigidly and for what seemed like the first time registered the existence of Sahib Makhmud. "If you wish to test his worth, we can arrange a friendly match between him and one of your personal guards." Rainulf said, and the smoldering gray eyes of showed that Owain was eager at the prospect of crossing swords - it was enough to convince Sahib. "No need, Sir d'Athée - he is clearly quite fierce." The Merchant Lord mused, his disgusting eyes filled with another emotion entirely. "Do they serve you, truly serve?" Sahib asked, his voice dripping with an uncomfortable tone.
Rainulf cleared his throat. "They do, for an increased fee." The Mercenary Captain said, his smile replaced with a stern expression focused on Owain. An unspoken command to obey or face consequences. Sahib stroked his chin for a time, examining the boy from a distance before nodding once. "If we make it my manor, arrange it Sir d'Athée. I do not think such activites would work with my stomach on these waters." Sahib Makhmud said, his tone downcast. "Of course." Captain Rainulf said, his stern salute as the Merchant Lord left the last sign of respect he would show for the man, spitting where he once stood. "Fuckin uppity desert rat, can't wait to be done with these sand savages and get back to real war." Captain d'Athée spat, approaching Owain and setting a large hand on his white haired head and ruffling it.
Owain did not react, his gray eyes staring straight ahead.
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