Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26446054-20170912201340/@comment-26446054-20170915220818

(^ has the memory of a head injured child. anyway, here you go:)

The continuous fortune of Arren resulted in permission to work with a mercenary troop situated in the cold hills of Bruma, and was even gifted some spare mismatched clothes by the recruiter taking pity on his situation.

The group, he was told, was a "mixed arms company", meaning they likely took on unspecialised fighters and charged into battle with swords and axes.

His arrival probably took a few days even by horse, but nevertheless he would encounter a few small camps with banners flying high, and smoke rising higher. The men he was to join bore a blue flag and a stag's antlers- amongst the encampment was a crowding of mostly Nordic beards, along with round shields decorating the various shelters.

Arren would finally come to their leader, and lucky enough to catch him sober, too.

He was, however, most displeased to see the Imperial.

"Fought us down and now you come looking for work," the leader grumbled. "Any weapons?"