Nib Member
- Last Seen: 2 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: sartorous
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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- Nib 8 yrs ago
- █████████ 12 yrs ago
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Double post.
I got my post up after all.
Iver sat and drank the swill provided by the tavern as he listened to his new squadmates talk about themselves and a bit about their backgrounds, attempting to at least remember their names. When everyone was finished introducing themselves, Fyn proceeded to remind them all that the people seated around them would be the reason they live or die in the battles to come. Iver set his mug back down, unfinished; he couldn’t finish the ale with the thought of battle looming over his head now. He had actually forgotten that those around him had signed their lives away to the Fifth Echelon along with him and that he was now in a contract to fight in battles for the Echelon.
Iver left the tavern with his squad and followed them back to the docks in preparation for their voyage to whatever battle awaited them. Two men carrying a large crate walked in front of Iver, and he was so lost in his thoughts again he about walked into them. With much cursing in his direction, the men walked away from the young mercenary. Shaking his head at the men, Iver caught back up with his squad in front of the undamaged ship currently docked in the pier. After a closer examination, Iver realized it was the best looking ship there; the others were heavily damaged from mage fire. A smiled spread over Iver’s face about the prospect of being placed on the newer ship until he saw the munitions crate loaded onto it by the pair of men he almost ran into earlier.
Fyn moved toward the recruiter that called their names out before and began yelling about the munitions being loaded on the Raggaton. The recruiter countered by saying they were one of the candidate squads to be placed on the ship and that they were to fight the other squad without weapons, and the one that lost would be placed on the massive explosive. Iver followed his squad in undoing his weapon belt and laying it on a nearby crate. As he dropped his sword and knives on the crate, he turned to see the squad of Heavies already charging at them. Iver watched as one of the charging Heavies was taken down by a bolt of electricity from Cynric.
One of the Heavies tackled Iver, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s torso and lifting him in the air. Iver brought his left elbow down on the neck of the larger man, but his elbow hit plate. He sucked in a breath of pain as he brought his other elbow down closer to the man’s head, hitting flesh this time. The Heavy dropped Iver and bent double slightly as he cracked his neck to try and rid himself of the pain. Iver rolled across the wooden planks into a crate. With a groan, Iver stood up as the Heavy approached, a bit more cautious this time. Iver dropped into a sloppy brawling stance with his fists raised in a more defensive form now that he had time to prepare himself for his opponent.
Iver did he best to dodge around the Heavy’s assault, taking a hit here and there. Eventually he was able to dodge around the Heavy to get behind him and lash out with a kick in the unarmored part just behind his knee; Iver led the kick with his shin instead of the toe of his boot so the man would just be knocked off balance and not too injured to fight in the real battles to come. The Heavy lost his footing and fell to the ground, but soon stood back up and continued the brawl with the Marine. Iver managed to dodge better than last time, and even managed to land a few hits this time. The tide turned against him as the Heavy caught his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. In desperation, Iver flung his back and connected with the Heavy’s nose; he heard a crack and a yelp of pain as the Heavy let go of Iver’s arm. He turned to the see the Heavy grabbing as his swollen nose beneath the river of blood that poured from it. Iver wasn’t in much better shape, as a dull pain began from the back of his head and spread out to wrap around his temples.
Iver took advantage of the lull in action to continue his assault through his blurred vision caused by the headache he now had. He closed the small distance between him and the Heavy in a few steps and began punching and kicking at any part left exposed through the Heavy’s defense. The sloppy barrage from the Marine finally paid off when he landed a few hits in quick succession to the Heavy’s jaw. The bigger man was knocked off balance yet again and fell over a pile of crates behind him; he didn’t get back up after that. Iver turned back toward his squad and started to walk, more like stumble. in their direction, set on trying to help any of them.
Iver left the tavern with his squad and followed them back to the docks in preparation for their voyage to whatever battle awaited them. Two men carrying a large crate walked in front of Iver, and he was so lost in his thoughts again he about walked into them. With much cursing in his direction, the men walked away from the young mercenary. Shaking his head at the men, Iver caught back up with his squad in front of the undamaged ship currently docked in the pier. After a closer examination, Iver realized it was the best looking ship there; the others were heavily damaged from mage fire. A smiled spread over Iver’s face about the prospect of being placed on the newer ship until he saw the munitions crate loaded onto it by the pair of men he almost ran into earlier.
Fyn moved toward the recruiter that called their names out before and began yelling about the munitions being loaded on the Raggaton. The recruiter countered by saying they were one of the candidate squads to be placed on the ship and that they were to fight the other squad without weapons, and the one that lost would be placed on the massive explosive. Iver followed his squad in undoing his weapon belt and laying it on a nearby crate. As he dropped his sword and knives on the crate, he turned to see the squad of Heavies already charging at them. Iver watched as one of the charging Heavies was taken down by a bolt of electricity from Cynric.
One of the Heavies tackled Iver, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s torso and lifting him in the air. Iver brought his left elbow down on the neck of the larger man, but his elbow hit plate. He sucked in a breath of pain as he brought his other elbow down closer to the man’s head, hitting flesh this time. The Heavy dropped Iver and bent double slightly as he cracked his neck to try and rid himself of the pain. Iver rolled across the wooden planks into a crate. With a groan, Iver stood up as the Heavy approached, a bit more cautious this time. Iver dropped into a sloppy brawling stance with his fists raised in a more defensive form now that he had time to prepare himself for his opponent.
Iver did he best to dodge around the Heavy’s assault, taking a hit here and there. Eventually he was able to dodge around the Heavy to get behind him and lash out with a kick in the unarmored part just behind his knee; Iver led the kick with his shin instead of the toe of his boot so the man would just be knocked off balance and not too injured to fight in the real battles to come. The Heavy lost his footing and fell to the ground, but soon stood back up and continued the brawl with the Marine. Iver managed to dodge better than last time, and even managed to land a few hits this time. The tide turned against him as the Heavy caught his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. In desperation, Iver flung his back and connected with the Heavy’s nose; he heard a crack and a yelp of pain as the Heavy let go of Iver’s arm. He turned to the see the Heavy grabbing as his swollen nose beneath the river of blood that poured from it. Iver wasn’t in much better shape, as a dull pain began from the back of his head and spread out to wrap around his temples.
Iver took advantage of the lull in action to continue his assault through his blurred vision caused by the headache he now had. He closed the small distance between him and the Heavy in a few steps and began punching and kicking at any part left exposed through the Heavy’s defense. The sloppy barrage from the Marine finally paid off when he landed a few hits in quick succession to the Heavy’s jaw. The bigger man was knocked off balance yet again and fell over a pile of crates behind him; he didn’t get back up after that. Iver turned back toward his squad and started to walk, more like stumble. in their direction, set on trying to help any of them.
We need a Vallen post, a Zetram post, and an Aelia post.
I will try and have a post up later on; just finishing up some homework. If I don't get one up tonight, then I'll definitely have on up tomorrow.
Sounds good to me.
It's alright, Leos.
Any posts coming soon?
Iver walked away from the recruitment stand wondering what awaited him now that he had signed his life away to the Fifth Echelon; he would definitely be getting adventure, but would he live through even the first battle with what little experience he had? He walked the streets of the city in a daze, running things over in his mind. After several bells, Iver finally made his way back to the somewhat rundown inn he was staying in and flopped down onto the excuse for a bed in the room he was paying for; the frame creaked as his full weight hit the mattress and sounded like it was about to give way under him. He grumbled as he began stripping him armor and sword off to lay back on the lumpy mattress.
“OKAY! Listen up you ugly bastards; I’m going to start listing the squads. The first person listed will be the Sergeant; he will receive the Fifth Echelon sigil pins that he must hand out to his squad. As I say your name, you come up to this side of the wooden crate, and meet with your Sergeant. Once I start naming another squad, I don’t want to see you by the wooden crate! We are leaving the city tonight, meaning we are meeting here in a bell in order to get everyone on the ships.”
Iver listened as intently as he could to the harsh man atop the wooden crate over the grumblings of the crowd around the area. When the first name was called, Iver watched the man walk up to the crate and start talking to the announcer and then look resigned as the names of the squad were called. He barely caught his name over the crowd and quickly pushed his way through to stand alongside his new squad. It was obvious they were mercenaries by the way they held themselves and from their armor and gear. The young man followed the group to a tavern near the docks where they were to report to in a bell to start loading the ships. Iver sat down to the left of the sergeant as he began recounting part of his life to the group and laid out the pins for them to take. Iver made a mental note that the sergeant, Fyn Hunter was his name, had served in the Jadelyn War.
As the older man with a lion banner on his shoulder began to speak, Iver reached out and grabbed a pin; it had a splash of blood in the top right as well as dent in the very center that looked like it was from an arrowhead. He placed the pin on the torn bit of scarf near his left shoulder plate and took a drink as the small woman to the front and left of him spoke up for a brief moment. Iver swirled the mug around, watching the amber liquid within make a tiny whirlpool before he finally spoke up.
“Well, I’m Iver Magsin. My father was a tailor, and my mom helped with the shop until he was shipped off to fight in the Jadelyn War and died. After that I helped her out as best I could as a courier ‘til I eventually joined the City Guard Force. When my mom died, I took what money I had and set out to explore, but money soon ran out, and now I’m a member of Second Legion, Fifth Company, Ninth Squad with you lot.”
With that, Iver took a gulp of his drink and let the sour beer wash down his throat.
“OKAY! Listen up you ugly bastards; I’m going to start listing the squads. The first person listed will be the Sergeant; he will receive the Fifth Echelon sigil pins that he must hand out to his squad. As I say your name, you come up to this side of the wooden crate, and meet with your Sergeant. Once I start naming another squad, I don’t want to see you by the wooden crate! We are leaving the city tonight, meaning we are meeting here in a bell in order to get everyone on the ships.”
Iver listened as intently as he could to the harsh man atop the wooden crate over the grumblings of the crowd around the area. When the first name was called, Iver watched the man walk up to the crate and start talking to the announcer and then look resigned as the names of the squad were called. He barely caught his name over the crowd and quickly pushed his way through to stand alongside his new squad. It was obvious they were mercenaries by the way they held themselves and from their armor and gear. The young man followed the group to a tavern near the docks where they were to report to in a bell to start loading the ships. Iver sat down to the left of the sergeant as he began recounting part of his life to the group and laid out the pins for them to take. Iver made a mental note that the sergeant, Fyn Hunter was his name, had served in the Jadelyn War.
As the older man with a lion banner on his shoulder began to speak, Iver reached out and grabbed a pin; it had a splash of blood in the top right as well as dent in the very center that looked like it was from an arrowhead. He placed the pin on the torn bit of scarf near his left shoulder plate and took a drink as the small woman to the front and left of him spoke up for a brief moment. Iver swirled the mug around, watching the amber liquid within make a tiny whirlpool before he finally spoke up.
“Well, I’m Iver Magsin. My father was a tailor, and my mom helped with the shop until he was shipped off to fight in the Jadelyn War and died. After that I helped her out as best I could as a courier ‘til I eventually joined the City Guard Force. When my mom died, I took what money I had and set out to explore, but money soon ran out, and now I’m a member of Second Legion, Fifth Company, Ninth Squad with you lot.”
With that, Iver took a gulp of his drink and let the sour beer wash down his throat.
Sounds good to me.
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