Fable - Ask Silver Crimson Black

[Agatha]

Some time ago, 'neath the shadow of the Spine...

Dawn was a long time coming. Cold, and tired from a restless night spent on the march, Captain Agatha of the Blackshields was almost relieved when the time came to call for the company to halt. Stretching, her back muscles protesting noisily, the she-orc slid from her hog's saddle to bless the road with her boot leather. Her bodyguard followed suit, many among them sighing with relief as they wandered hitherto in order to get the blood flowing again. A few rushed off to relieve themselves in the stand of trees lining the road.

It had been a long ride, after all. Merciless, as she was sometimes forced to be.

'Tell the boys to take fifteen,' she said, turning to her adjutant, Toki. 'It'll give the Strength time to catch up.' The Strength was the "official" name for the cohort's civilian hangers-on; the husbands and wives, their children, tailors, armourers, cooks and the like. They played a crucial part in keeping the cohort both happy and operating at peak efficiency.

And Agatha was nothing if not efficient.

'Aye, Cap!' Scritching, scratching, the dark-haired dwarf drew his mountain pony about. Of all of her companions, Toki looked the most out of place, surrounded by orcs and humans and elf-kin. But just like the Strength he was essential in keeping the Company whole and healthy and armed. Not to mention paid.

Pausing, Toki turned in his saddle to regard Agatha as she started walking towards a nearby rise.

'Where are you off to?' He shouted, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'To get the lay of the land!' She called back, already halfway up the rocky rise. 'Didn't I tell you to go do something?' Guffawing in mock indignation, Toki pointed to the 'Shields stood nearest.

'Wineskin! Steppe! Havelok! Get up there after her and make sure the Captain doesn't catch a stray arrow.' These are dangerous lands, he thought, glancing after her, knowing from past experience that danger often lurked in the most random of places. His eyes flitted to the mercs. 'Well? What're you standing around for? Jump to it before I take me boot to your sorry hides!'

Celestine

 

[Celestine]

"Calm your farm." Celestine rolled her eyes and threw a face at Toki, her boots already catching a layer of dust kicked up from the path by the time he hastened them. She handed her horse to another before saluting Toki with a flat look, but was the first to follow after their Captain. Below her breath, she muttered nonsense concerning the dwarf, and hoped his ears burned as she did so.

Hazel eyes now watched as Agatha reached the crest, and Havelok quickened her steps so as to catch up and not lose sight of the Captain.

"Gods," She cursed. "How are your legs not protesting like a spoiled toddler at walking uphill after riding so long?" Cel called out, grimacing but persisting.

Agatha

 

[Agatha]

The optics were good. Not great, but good enough for Agatha to get a decent picture of what they were up against. 'What was that?' She barked, glancing over her shoulder to find Celestine approaching with a couple of others. 'My legs're fine, thank you! As for my hearing...' She shook her hand, eh.

Turning back to the view, she nodded, seeking a second opinion. 'What do you make of all that?'

There were a handful of settlements, far off, spread thin amongst the trees and hills of the North Country. Their destination, the fortress-town of Marisir, located west of the Blightlands and the length of Spine hemming it in, lay a handful of leagues south of where they now stood. Though distant, Agatha could make out the slate rooftops and stone walls with ease. And as for the fires...

'Looks like a godsdamned war camp!' Steppe remarked, lingering off to the side of Agatha in a guarding position.

'All that smoke, it's gots to be!' Wineskin replied, as dour as ever. 'Bet we ain't the only ones lookin' to make a quick penny fightin' for the High King, ey, boss?' Agatha grunted. She already knew they were late to the party. Her informers -what few were left after the purges- had been quick to let her know of the "excellent" opportunity that was currently on offer in Marisir. They had given her names of all the lords and ladies that had answered the would-be High King's summons. Not to mention the names of all the mercenary companies they would be fighting alongside.

Or against.

'Anything to add, Havelock?' She asked after a moment spent in silent observation, golden eyes flitting to the woman stood nearby.

Celestine

 

[Celestine]

Celestine cut glance back to her Captain, her face fallen to a light frown that always had been there as long as she had served with the company. "I see a challenge." Brow quirking, she turned to face the camps set up before them, head falling to one side as she now gave proper assessment.

"Out of all those companies, I still would wager that our own would come out best." She didn't speak of strength or might, but perhaps the best to be seen under the gaze of this High King.

And, of course, the weight in gold they would receive with such favour.

Shrugging, Cel looked to Wineskin and Steppe, before breaking a smile at the Captain. "Steppe still owes me coin from a month ago, and I'm afraid I will never see it in my natural life."

Agatha

 

[Agatha]

'There's always the next one, Havs!' Steppe replied, grinning from ear to ear. 'Anyway, don't you owe Brick a lil' something, too?' The question was posed innocently enough, though Agatha couldn't help but sense viciousness behind the mercenary's smile. They were a rough lot, her Blackshields, and sometimes that roughness was directed towards each other rather than outwards.

'Why do you think she brought it up?'

Returning Celestine's smile, Agatha kept her eyes fixed on the distant smoke as she addressed Steppe. She did not like wagers being made between her troops. Such habits had a tendency of stirring up problems, and animosity festered like a bad case of the boils when left unchecked. But she knew Steppe well enough to know he didn't mean nothing by it.

Besides, what is life without a little risk? Agatha thought, patting her full coin purse, cheered by the satisfying clink it made.

'I wager you might be right, Havelock.' Brushing away some dirt from her trouser leg, Agatha nodded. 'The Marked Men, the Storm Swords, the Company of the Dog,' she listed off a few of the companies she knew about, each name ringing bells. 'Good companies, experienced, but no Blackshields!'

Grinning, Steppe and Wineskin thumped their feet proudly. 'Here, here!'

Celestine

 

[Celestine]

Cel rolled her eyes and flipped off Steppe. "Brick's acting like a baby. I don't owe him shit!" She shrugged, glancing between everyone once more. "Not my fault he can't stand still for one arrow to shoot through the apple on his head." Scoffing, she curled her fingers at the top of her leather breastplate, letting her arms rest as her gaze stared out to the masses below.

As Agatha listed the companies they could see the banners of, Celestine began to smile wider. "With names like that, I doubt a king would want to dirty his mouth saying any of those." The Swords, however, Cel had crossed with at one point. Where they lacked in manners, they made up for it in fight. She had been younger then, crossing from Liadain to Epressa, but no one from Anir caught wind that she was not deceased.

Oh well, I am better off with the Blackshields. She thought to herself.

Cel smirked as Steppe and Wineskin created noise, but the red head caught the Captain's gaze. "Shall we go remind them who we are, Captain?"

Agatha

 

[Agatha]

'It's almost like he doesn't trust you.' Steppe laughed, shoulders shaking in amusement. 'And you would?' Glancing between Celestine and Steppe, Wineskin let the question go hang. They all gave each other shit from time to time, some more than others. But bringing an officer's name into the mix was a good way to end up on a punishment detail.

Frankly, I'm sick and tired of latrine duty, the pale orc thought, looking to the Captain.

Clicking her tongue, Agatha nodded, turned back to the road. 'They haven't forgotten, Cel,' she said, speaking of the other companies, knowing in her heart of hearts that this meeting with the "High King" wouldn't go well. Call it intuition, she thought with a smile, leading her three bodyguards back down to where the rest of the column waited. Her hog, Daisy, lifted its snout at her approach, tail swishing excitedly.

Food? Her piggy eyes seemed to ask as Agatha walked alongside.

'No, no. That comes later.' Snorting, the great war-beast tossed back its head in quiet indignation. Big, powerful, the giant boars the Second rode into battle were always on the hunt for something to eat. Running her hand through Daisy's bristly hair, Agatha turned to Celestine, a small glimmer in her eye.

'I always meant to ask, why is it you don't ride one of these?' She gestured around her, at the bodyguard Cel was a part of. Hogs, whilst not pretty, were one of the few advantages the cohort could boast.

Celestine

 

[Celestine]

Dutifully, she turned to follow her Captain, but not before she narrowed her eyes to the camps beyond and the company occupying them. She lifted a hand to rub her nose with the back of her gloved hand when question was directed to her just as she copped a nudge from her Anirian mare. Celestine gave the horse a stern look before turning her attention back to Agatha.

"I don't know. Clementine apparently refused to leave me when I left Anir." Of course, that was not the true story, but it was the easiest one to tell. Anyone in the Company knew of Cel's oigins, even if her distinct accent had faded into something more common, but when she had several drinks or was angered, the Anirian language was out in full force. "Still got a good few riding years with her, just seemed like a waste." She shrugged. It was perhaps the only thing that reminded her of what she had been before serving alongside with the Blackshields.

"Although," She smiled, "if anyone asks, I won her in a bet." For Clementine was no ordinary horse, but a war horse bred by a Great House. One of the best to be found in Liadain.

Agatha

 

[Nargula]

Finally, a halt had been called, it felt like ages since they had respite from the road. With a stretch the she-orc hurled off her mount and onto the dust and long road. She, like many others headed for the trees for a bit of relief, her bladder practically screaming. She barely raised her eyes to her Captain, thoughts on one thing only.

it was unfortunate, that another got in her way, enough to distract her from her bladder and into a small spat instead. "Get the fuck out of my way." Her eyes narrowed, and she bared her teeth. The road had been long, but that made tempers short. The orc that she now yelled at received her words and returned them with a shove to her shoulder. "Fuck off ya foul bitch." He was now in her face, and her lips quirked up in a deadly smile. "Sure, sure. I'll fuck off, but first.." She swung her head back, and then forward with speed and strength, a resounding crack as their foreheads met.

Nargula managed to knock his ass to the dirt, and she laughed while turning her back. "Next time, don't get in the way of a lady needing to piss, eh?" She was well aware she was no lady, but she doubted he'd be so quick to get in her face again.

Agatha Celestine

 

[Agatha]

'Won her in a bet, huh?' Shaking her head, Agatha straddled her hog, a wry smile on her face. 'I've lost count of the times I've heard that one.' Won it in a bet? Sure, sure you did. Looking over her shoulder, the Captain whistled sharply. 'Hey! Cut that shit out!'

Dozens of eyes swivelled towards the lone form of Nargula, and the fool-ass lying in the dirt at her feet.

'For fuck's sake, Nargs!' Lacing up his trews hurriedly, Sallow jogged from his place amongst the trees, his gaze flitting from one orc to the other. Tall and gaunt-looking, the officer was a Company veteran, but that didn't stop some of the other old hands from stepping on his toes. 'Do I need to get the lash out again?' He asked Nargula as she sauntered off into the woods. 'You know the rules: no fighting unless the Cap says so!'

The minutes passed by as the cohort's officers harangued their wayward flock back into formation.

Forming up at the head of her mounted bodyguard, Agatha signalled the column to proceed. With the braying of horns, the Blackshields continued on towards Marisir, their passing kicking up a cloud of dust that lingered low above the horizon.

They encountered the first outriders a couple of miles shy of their destination. The badges they wore revealed them to be members of the Flayers, a mercenary band known for its... acquired tastes when it came to taking prisoners. Agatha didn't like them or their captain much. No-one did, really.

'Hail and well met!' The man in charge cried out. Broad-shouldered, and heavily-armed, his escort of a half-dozen regarded Agatha with barely concealed derision. 'Hail,' she replied, keeping the column moving, her smile warm, eyes cold. 'And well met. If it's all the same to you, would you mind shifting a smidge to your left? You're blocking the road.'

Celestine Nargula