Who: Cadi Seris Where: Denerim; somewhere in central Ferelden When: 9.33 Summary: Scenes from Cadi's first year as a mercenary Rating: T for violence
9.33 Matrinalis Cadi came home late that night, caught up in her young mistress's quest to have her hair and dress just so for whichever rich human boy had caught her fancy this week, and so almost didn't notice the recruiter. But the Alienage was humming with tension when she slipped inside, a half hour shy of curfew, and it took Cadi only a moment's glance to realize the lone human man was the source. He was tall and bulky, even for a human, and heavily armed. She thought he was a city guard at first, come to arrest someone on some trumped up charge, but the armor didn't look standard issue, and there was only one of him.
That still left a few possibilities beside the one Cadi was hoping for, but the crowd wasn't angry enough for him to be some lordling's representative, come to level accusations of theft or drag away some poor young woman, and after a few more minutes of listening to the buzz of gossip, she slipped through the crowd to approach the man.
It took him a moment to notice her, and when he did, he seemed disappointed. “Want to join the Blackstone Irregulars, miss? Finest mercenary company in all the land.” He sounded amused beneath the boredome, like he expected her to stuttered some excuse and slink back through the crowd. That was okay, though. Cadi was used to humans looking down on her.
She pasted on the brightest, cheeriest smile she could fake, the one she saved for when her mistress was being especially dull-witted. “Why, yes, I would, sir. Thank you very much. Do I get a signing bonus?”
He stared stupidly-- how had humans ever managed to enslave her ancestors when they were all such idiots?-- for several heartbeats while Cadi held her breath and waited. Finally, the man seemed to process that yes, someone had actually said yes to him and replied, “Er, yes, three sovereigns, you get that now, and a bit more when someone comes by to give you the test, depending on how you do.”
Cadi frowned a bit at that. She hadn't been planning on a test, but, well, she could always try again someday. That thought cheered her, at least enough to meet the human man's eyes. “Why can't you do the test? Aren't you a mercenary, too?”
That seemed to catch the man off-guard. He really wasn't a very good recruiter, if so many things surprised him. “Ah, well, I could, but I don't have equipment for you, and it's really better that-”
“Oh, that's no problem, I ha... I can get some. I'll meet you tomorrow, then? Outside the city gates?”
He nodded, so Cadi hurried home, mulling over plans as to how she was going to slip out from under her mother's watchful eye and smuggle armor and a sword outside.
---
9.33 Frumentum The sword seemed heavier than it had yesterday. Possibly that was because Cadi had spent half the day in a hard march towards whatever little town this was, whereas yesterday the most strenuous thing she'd done was an impromptu sparring session with Elena after a tedious day spent guarding a merchant caravan from wild animals which had failed to materialize. Possibly it was the orders that had woken them an hour before dawn: the local bann had finally grown tired of the pack of bandits nesting in his lands, and hired the Blackstone Irregulars to deal with the problem. Permanently. It was a moot point, Cadi reminded herself. Worrying was the easiest way to get yourself killed, or so Elena and a half dozen other experienced fighters had told her, so she took a steadying breath and pushed the nervousness or tiredness to the back of her mind. She'd have time later to deal with whatever it was.
Cadi fixed her eyes back on the trail in front of her. She'd been ordered to guard the entrance of the maze of ruins and caves that made up the bandits' lair, just in case someone managed to slip past the others. Cadi didn't think that was likely though: Elena had fifteen years experience, Ardal twenty, and the other four at least three each. She'd probably just stand there the whole time.
Or not. Cadi shifted her sword up, counting down the seconds until the bandit woman reached her. So much for another day of dull, easy guard duty, Cadi thought, a wry smile twisting her lips. And then the woman reached her, and Cadi brought her shield up to block the woman's sword, and swung her sword to block the dagger arcing towards her side, and-- shit, there's an archer, too-- twisted so the arrow sunk into the wall behind her instead of her eye. The first bandit was smiling now, confident with backup, so Cadi slammed her armor-clad foot down on the woman's leather boot and shoved with her shield, and then the woman was on the ground, and Cadi's sword was through her throat and then back out again so she could turn it on the archer. He took two more blows, the first to sweep his bow out of the way, and the second into his chest, and then Cadi was standing alone, blood sliding down her face and heart thundering along as if it'd been scared it'd have to stop soon. She'd have to wash her hair later, and clean her armor and sword so it wouldn't rust.
Thudding steps brought Cadi back to herself. She tugged her sword and shield back up, but it was only Elena, the older woman's face twisted with worry. “Cadi, are you alright?”
9.33 Cassus “So you're the new girl... elf... person?”
Cadi glanced up from the leather gloves in her lap, setting needle and thread aside temporarily; she'd have to buy a new pair soon, but if she could make them last another job or two, she'd have coin enough to buy chainmail and a little left over as a cushion. The man standing over her was human, dark-haired, a few years older than her. She'd seen him around, but there were enough other mercenaries in the company that they'd never talked. “'Woman' works, or 'recruit',” she replied tersely. “But I'm not that new any more.”
Cadi picked up her needle again, but kept one eye on the man. She'd figured out in the last few months that the human Irregulars were at least as likely to offer her advice as to bother her-- more likely, actually, which was still a little surreal-- and Cadi didn't want to miss out on a new lesson. But that didn't mean she had to abandon everything she was doing to hang on the man's words.
He didn't seem to mind, took it as an invitation in fact, plopping down next to her with his feet sprawled out towards the fire. “Recruit, sorry, and no need to sound so defensive. I've heard you're getting pretty good in a fight.” He sounded amused, which made Cadi want to punch him, but she wasn't that good in a fight yet. “Oh, I'm Rhys. Pleasure to meet you.” He stuck out his hand, grinning like she wasn't sitting there half-tensed, wondering whether he was trouble or there to offer something or just taking up her time.
Cadi gave the man's hand one quick shake before slipping hers free and back to her side where her sword was sitting. “Cadi.” She watched him a moment longer, tugging a stitch into place.
Rhys glanced down at Cadi's lap, blinking as if he'd just realized she might have things to do other than entertain a virtual stranger. “Er, so anyway, I learned this thing from some dwarves a while back, called the 'way of the beserker', and I've heard you're a bit, ah, aggressive in battle, so I thought it might be a good fit. Or I know a lot of other techniques that I could maybe teach you?”
He sounded a bit like a hopeful child begging for a new toy, which was strange since he was the one offering her something, but a lesson was a lesson, no matter how strange the teacher. “Okay. So this beserker thing, how does it work?”