I asked for this section to be put up, so first I would like to thank the guys at fan fiction for putting this section up

First I would like to thank the guys at fan fiction for putting this section up.

The intro is basically before mercenaries got involved in the hundred years war, so this is before the events of the game.

Have fun.

Prologue

Dark Days of War

In a tavern in the north of France, untouched by the war all around it, the Barkeep, in his red and blue tunic, cleans his goblets and chalices, waiting for the call to come. The call for mercenaries to join the war, he looked round, seeing regulars drinking a bit of ale. He looked at the side of his bar, looking at the French merchant, wearing fine noble’s clothes, drinking from a fine chalice.

“Tell me” the Barkeep starts, walking over to the Merchant. “How long do you think it will be under the mercenaries are needed?”

“I wouldn’t think long” the merchant replied, looking round. “I think the King of England is starting to get impatient”

The barkeep looked further round the bar, seeing a gent in armour walk in, his armour coloured green, meaning he was neutral in the war. He walked over to the bar, holding a message of some kind.

“Message from the war” the person tells the pair, passing the Barkeep the message. He reads it, smiling as he finishes it.

“And so it has begun” he speaks, passing the message to the merchant.

“Both sides are looking for mercenaries, eh?” he speaks, putting the message to one side. “England sails to Normandy, and Aquitaine is under control”

“The time is ripe” the Barkeep continues, opening the taps on a cask and filling two wooden goblets with ale. He closed the tap and passed one to his friend. “The mercenaries shall soon flock here, looking for coin to earn and glory to receive”

The two friends tapped goblets and having a quick drink. The messenger left the tavern, heading towards his home. He passed three people walking in, looking round the tavern as they came in, and walking over to the bar. The youngest wore brown leather clothes with un-neat brown hair; he had a bow in his hand and a quiver on his back. The next youngest had jet black, untidy hair, wearing green leather armour along with leg plates; he had a sword and a shield on his back. The oldest of the three wore steel armour all over his body, with cloth in places to show his side, holding a spear and a shield. The Barkeep walked over to the three, giving them a goblet of ale.

“Blessed be friends” he said to them, walking around to clean up more goblets, occasionally wiping the tables. “What would bring ye to this humble tavern?”

“I for one be a mercenary, I don’t know about the other two” the middle one spoke, he had an Irish accent and looked around, drinking his ale. “My name is Magnus by the by”

“That appears to be the same for us” the biggest spoke, looking round as well, pushing his drink forward. “I’m Marc, and this is my younger brother, Georges”

“Brother, all we need is a good job to show our worth” Georges spoke. The Barkeep walked over to a board, pulling down a notice and bringing it over to the three mercenaries.

“This is all I have at the moment” he told them, putting the contract in front of them. “The first encounter at Normandy, the English landings have gotten the French forces mobilized” he pointed to the staging area, just south of Carentan on the map. “The French seek to push the English back, and the English seek a strong foothold to bring in more troops” he walked around the bar, standing behind the men. “The reward is 4490 gold coins from your side, and both sides be recruiting”

Magnus whistled at this, thinking of all the things he could do with that money. Marc and Georges looked at each other, smiling.

“Alright, I guess we’ll take it for the English” Georges told the Barkeep, leaving with Mark right behind him. Magnus stayed for a bit longer, looking at the Barkeep.

“So how long do ye think it’ll be before we get some new blood on the battlefield?” he asked, standing up, the Barkeep scratched his chin, thinking of an answer.

“I wouldn’t say too long, in fact they might be walking through the door right now” he answered, laughing afterwards. Magnus left after this, thinking of the battle ahead.

The Barkeep put the contract on the corner of the bar, nailing it down with a dagger. He went back to his old duties, cleaning up the empty tables and setting out the chairs, he felt a draft as the door opened, looking over and seeing a young man walk in. he had red spiky hair and simple leather clothes, no weapons on him at all. His green eyes showed a young spirit.

“Ah, a new warrior I see” he spoke, returning to the bar. “Come hither to, I would like to get a better look at you.” The young man walked over to the bar; still standing up even though seats were free. “Please, may I know your name?”

The young man looked around, thinking of how great this place looked, the map on the wall above the fireplace made it superb for mercenaries. Gossip could be heard no matter where you were inside. The chess game where the pieces had been untouched and the merchant were a rush to his senses, taking in all this at once. He looked back at the bar, looking the Barkeep in the eye.

“My name…” he started, his voice sounding quite innocent. He sat on a stool, grabbing the ale left over from before “…Is Jorzan”

“Hmm, that is an unusual name” the Barkeep replied, crossing his arms and looking at the young man. “How aged are ye?”

“I’m 20 in 5 moons” Jorzan replied, taking a quick swig. “And I would like to joins the ranks of the mercenaries”

“Well, rule number one, you must sell your name” the Barkeep replied, refilling the merchant’s goblet. “Nought shall befall you if you don’t sell your name”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the mercenary’s code” Jorzan replied, making sure to stress the word ‘know’.

“Well, if that be the case, the first contract is their on the table” he pulled a sword out from under the bar, passing it over to the new mercenary. “There’s your base lard, now get going”

The new mercenary grabbed the sword, pulling it out of its sheath and seeing the blade was rusted but still sharp. He put the blade back, running out of the Tavern towards the staging area.

“I’ll be back after the job!” he shouted, excited about his first contract. The Barkeep held his head in his hands, thinking about the innocence that the boy held.

“He’ll be back alive I guess” he spoke. “And he will be one to look out for”

Right… that’s this intro done. Hope you liked it, and did anyone else ask for this section to be put up, because I sure as hell did and can’t wait to see what everyone puts in. now have fun writing/ reading.