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Brenguard tried to ignore the looks he and his men were getting from the locals as they came into town. Anybody who went into Sylvania was treated as some kind of heretic here. The thanks you got for defending their towns.
“You’re free to wander the town till daybreak tomorrow. Buy any personal supplies, send any letters, and stay out of trouble. If your unit needs any supplies or weapons, tell Marcus and he’ll take care of it,” ordered Brenguard as the army dispersed through the town’s square, each going their own way. Brenguard himself made for the pub, he had business to attend to.
The pub was a fairly clean establishment, with an inn above it. Brenguard stepped in and made his way toward the bar, picking up a bit of the conversation from the far end.
“I’m telling ya, that place is bad news. Nobody in their right mind
goes in there. My father fought in Hel Fen, was never the same
afterward. If those vampires decide to bring up an army, nobody’s gonna
stop em with some motley crew of volunteers,”
Brenguard sat next to the man, facing away, and ordered a drink,
smirking to himself. Maybe this wouldn’t be a hard as he thought.
“Nobody can defeat a vampire, they’re immortal I hear,” added the man, with a sense of finality as he picked up his mug again.
“Nah, they die easy enough,” commented Brenguard nonchalantly, not even turning to face the man.
“Anybody who says that’s obviously never seen one fight, my pa said
they monsters were unkillable, it took Count Martin to kill one!”
roared the man, slamming down his mug and turning to face Brenguard.
“Well, no offense to your father, but I killed one myself not three
days ago,” answered Brengaurd smugly, eliciting gasps and a few
skeptical laughs from the crowd in the bar.
“Who are you anyway, some sorta mercenary, tryin to drum up business
with some ridiculous story like that?” The man demanded, putting a
rough hand on Brenguard’s shoulder.
Brenguard turned around, calmly removing the man’s hand, “I, sir, am
Viscount Brenguard, and I am offended. I am no mercenary. I’m a captain
of the Emperor’s army.”
The man bit his lip, trying to cover up his embarrassment. “And if you
doubt my claim, you can ask the priest of Morr here, I gave him the
body and effects of the vampire to dispose of just this morning. It was
just a thrall of course, but a bullet to the face stops just about
anything,” Brenguard smirked as he looked around at the looks of awe on
the faces all around. This was going better than he could have hoped
“My men and I just stopped to resupply before we move back to Sylvania.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find some lodging for the night.”
Brenguard began to get up, but the roar of the crowd, demanding for
more tales from Sylvania, brought him back to his seat. It’ll be a long
evening he thought to himself with a smile.
-o0o-
Brenguard woke with the
sun, and donned his armor as he prepared to set out. The innkeeper had
hospitably offered him the room free of charge, one of the many perks
of being a captain of the Empire in these backwater towns. Hero-worship
was one thing Brenguard never got tired of, he lived for the stories
and the questions.
He made his way out of the inn and headed for the town square,
receiving kind looks from everyone he encountered, apparently his fame
had already spread throughout the town. As he approached the square, he
saw his men already assembled, and a crowd gathered, all dressed in the
nicest clothes they could muster. Many of the maidens and children were
presenting the soldiers with gifts, blocks of cheese, hats, new boots,
and a multitude of trinkets. The crowd parted to make way for
Brenguard, and somewhere a band struck up and old tune from the days of
Count Martin.
A group of young men approached Brenguard, a few dressed in what he
assumed to be their father’s old military uniforms. The tallest of the
boys stepped forward, and offered a hand to Brenguard.
“Captain, sir, my name’s Peter, and my friends and I, well, we were
wondering if you could use any more men,” the boy said sheepishly,
obviously excited to in the presence of a real military man.
“You boys know what kind of hardships come from a military life? The
constant marching, low rations, danger, and not to mention having to
stand fast in the face of the enemy, a foe that feels nothing, that
doesn’t sleep?” asked Brenguard solemnly.
“Yes sir, and we thought it over, and we decided that a life in the
army was more than we could ever do here, the adventure, glory, and
protecting our families, well, sir, we’d be honored to be part of you
company,”
Brenguard patted the young man on the shoulder, “Then welcome to the
Royal Sylvan Guard of Stirland. My second in command over there is
Marcus, go talk to him and he’ll supply you with all the equipment
you’ll need and tell you what units you’ll be assigned to.”
Brenguard noticed the crowd had swelled; it must be nearly every person
in the entire town. He moved toward the center of the square, and swung
himself up on top of a pedestal housing a bronze statue of some
forgotten hero of Stirland.
“Good people of the Empire,” began Brenguard, summoning the people’s
attentions and quieting the band, “I thank you on behalf of the
Emperor’s soldiers for you hospitality. I ask that you remember us in
your prayers to Sigmar, and we will remember you as we fight the
Emperor’s enemies.” A cheer went up from the crowd, and Brenguard
continued, “However, our forces have begun to wane somewhat after our
recent battle with the forces of Sylvania, and we ask that if any of
you desire service in the name of the Emperor, that you join us today
as we march back out. I assure you that there is no finer outfit in all
of Stirland than the Sylvan Guard, and you’ll earn honor and glory
beyond your wildest dreams”
The band picked back up again, and Brenguard mixed with the people,
glancing at Marcus and the long line of enlistee’s with a smile.
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