A Dead Man Walking
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Leofric's Story
Few remember what truly happened at the Battle of Evonmark, but then history pays little mind to the stories of the defeated. Times were changing, war ravaged the old continent and the proud state of Ryvania was one of many embroiled in the conflict. Pompous, land-hungry elites and noble lineages of old treated it as little more than a game at first but each battle escalated into something more dire, it was a sign that times were changing, new and more devastating technologies came to the battlefield and the age-old codes of conduct, that of honor and chivalry were quickly swept aside as the powers grew more desperate. The world was changing and it would leave little room for those who held onto the past. Those days are a distant memory to the people on the continent of Tyranoth now, for as war ravaged the mainland, exciting news spread across courts and cities, of mythical lands across the seas and their exotic bounties, the Age of Expedition was in full swing.
Leofric Gregor Von Grimhaven was a knight, one amongst many loyal to the Count of Ryvania before it was usurped and overtaken by the Fourth Empire, you see, when the War of The Four Courts began, Ryvania had thrown its lot in with the local powerhouse, the city state of Bronstadt together with its vassal counties and the Kingdom of Koltow-Lupinsk in what became known as the Hammer League. Early gains and promising victories seemed to provide a false momentum, the war was brought to a brief revolt by mass civilian outcries, anti-monarchist and noble sentiment and excessive burdens brought on by the wars which stretched it seemed for a century. Despite revolution and internal strife, these revolts proved to be the turning point in the war, the former Kingdom of Avance became a republic, under the brilliance of a general named Ferrand De Guiscard, a successive series of battles leading to his shock conquest of the Free Cities of Valyr and swaying The High Church of The Deus to his side lead to the formation of the Fourth Empire (So called because Ferrand styled himself Imperator in the tradition of The Valradic Empire).
Guiscard was a man, or so it seemed, destined by god himself to rule over Tyranoth, his means of doing so were equally as ruthless, on one hand he brought forms of warfare and strategy never before seen, on the other hand, he was brutal and unforgiving, dismissing the customs of war as senile traditions. Ryvania was woefully under-resourced and under prepared when the war came to it, months of war and inconclusive battles had worn heavy on the morale of its people at Evonmark, The armies of the League and The Empire met for one last time before history was changed and the heroes of the league were forgotten or worse, as Leofric would soon find out.
It was an early march morning, the garrison still seemed in spirit, the usual dues of the day were being performed but there was a sure tenacity in the air. The men made ready for war, armies massed upon the field and amidst the fortifications of Evonmark, where the forces of the league had amalgamated eager to halt the Avancieres from reaching further into their territory, the Count himself was present. The air was fortuitous, such a great mass of forces had not been seen upon Tyranoth in ages and proud nobles met with soldiers and laid their war speeches but there was no denying the air was tense, the expressions upon more battleworn commanders and soldiers were far more grim than the vast majority of "green" soldiers. Leofric himself held onto the slivers of hope sparingly, he had escaped death almost miraculously so many times, war was his profession and as soldiers believe, he believed that god was on his side. Leofric's horsemen stood by his side, eager to avenge their fallen comrades. But fortune would not favor the bold that day.
Smoke, Chaos, Fire... Charging battle lines, the smell of blood and char and the deafening blasts of Avancier muskets and cannons, those were amongst the last things that Leofric remembered, but most of all, the violence of his own death. A volley of musket balls flew past, iron and fire, horses falling to his left and right, lancers charging through ranks of men, some being impaled upon pikes... heavy breathing, adrenaline, the breaking of his lance, the swings of his sword and then a rapture that tore through his sole, a volley of musket shots at point blank, thrown off his horse into the mud, the shattering, crunching pain, the feeling of profound nausea... things were blurry, sounds were dulled.. he was crawling for something but his mind hadn't its senses anymore... even breathing felt painful, he called out to the shadows running past, whether for help or to mock them he wasn't sure... but then he flipped over... too weak... too hurt... Fuck... he thought with humor at his own misery... this is it.
Nobody really remembered what happened at the Battle of Evonmark, but in April of that year, Leofric of Evonmark breathed again, he was in a bed of grass, tall, unkempt and grown over, his clothing somewhat tattered and the crater left by the musket shot in the plate of his cuirass still evident. Leofric was stiff as a winter morning, but it didn't take long after he opened his eyes to realize what had happened. Those that saw him in uniform, jeered and mocked at him, though they were sure he was merely a lucky scavenger, after all, what sort of man walks around with an armor plate caved in by a musketball. Evonmark was a ruin and its outskirts were being reclaimed by peasants and settlers grazing sheep and cows over what had once been a proud city. By one miracle, Leofric had lived, by another, he returned to Grimhaven
His estates, his lands, his titles... were all gone, "Leofric of who? This city answers to the Duke of Revaigne" even Ryvania had ceased to exist, his insistence only earned him a beating and a night in the dungeon. It was evident Leofric would have to resort to other means, no codes of honor, no chivalry here... but what's a starving man to do? his father was a greater hero than he could ever be, the late Baron Adalgard Von Grimhaven had been his inspiration, a hero to the league, felled in battle, where he had gained swathes of territory in the name of Grimhaven and Ryvania, Leofric was the last of his line, a dead man walking. In his wisdom, Adalgard had left a stash of coins buried in the gardens of the estate, enough to let Leofric earn his keep.
On an April night, Leofric of Grimhaven turned thief. It would have been a brilliant plan were the lay and law of the land the same, what Leofric did not have was the power of his title, but what he did have was a dilapidated suit of armor and a sword that would still cut. He broke in through the portcullis which drained a stream through the manner, and went forth in the matter, finding his father's stash. Only to discover the manor had been expanded and its floors marbled over. The rest of the night devolved into madness as Leofric slew guards, guard dogs, servants and even wounded the very influential Baron of Grimhaven, by morning the guards promptly arrested the man. The captain of the guard sentenced him to hang before a crowd before the day was over.
Rotting in a dungeon, contemplating his fate, the hand of opportunity reached out to Leofric once more, it seemed his skill in battle and grit had left an impression upon the mayor who could sympathize with a man with such a drive and lust for gold, the terms were quite clear, The baron offered a debt of clearance, and in return, Leofric was charged with guardianship of a Caravel sailing to the new world with officers and officials on board, piracy had been rampant and native attacks on settlements and ports had become concerning. This began Leofric of Grimhaven's journey to Terra Inculta, from Knight Errant to Company Man.
Leofric learned that the world had changed much, he was exposed to sights and experiences that the life of a knight would never have afforded him, even before the Caravel departed, he visited all the greatest ports in Tyranoth honing his skills, perfecting what he knew and learning what he did not, a horseman all his life now he found surity in gunpowder, his wages wouldn't allow upkeep of a horse anyhow not that such a beast was much use on a ship anyhow. His experiences had him eager to sail to Terra Inculta, the new lands awaited and like many adventurers before him he longed to start a new chapter, convinced that god had brought him from the brink for a reason
What they told of Terra Inculta couldn't be further from the truth, the derelict and destroyed ships in the bay weren't the result of piracy alone, the wars of the old continent had never ended, they just switched places, now these wars were waged between colonies, traders and cut-throats. The savage and sorcerously inclined natives of these lands had no mercy upon these foreigners who pilfered their lands and slew their people, they returned these favors in kind. The semblance of order was a thin veil, it was a lawless, untamed and wild place and the settlements were little more than vile, wretched and miserable dens. Crime and corruption were rampant and most who chose to stay here were either destitute, desperate or in debt. It was a place where the Company ran supreme and under the premise of the Imperial mandate committed all manners of atrocities, but Leofric was a marked man with a debt to pay and so he served and in due time, he came to know a few things about Terra Inculta, but even he never tamed it
Finally liberated from his debt to the Baron of Grimhaven, a series of correspondences and a lump sum payment for his services were yielded to Leofric, one of forty from the 350 company men that had survived the ordeals of the elements, the people, and the wilds of Terra Inculta. With nothing left for him upon the old continent, he began a new, with his dues, he brought himself new arms and armor, enough rations to last a fortnight, a baggage train and a license from the governor to register a Free Company. Perhaps in silent homage to the life that once was, Leofric Von Grimhaven formed The Company of The Hammer, half a decade since he awoke upon the fields of Evonmark, he was now a mercenary captain upon Terra Inculta, eager to find his destiny.
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