The story I am about to tell is a recollection of my journey from a single mercenary only caring about how many coins I could make to a respected leader of a mercenary company. My story starts unlike most I didn't come from nothing and make myself known through sheer strength and determination. I was the son of a minor noble; my father was the count of a fief in the small kingdom of Tolrania my mother was the milkmaid my brother had. Growing up I was bullied by my older brothers for being small, weak, and a bastard. My oldest brother Johnathan did not bully me like the others but did not acknowledge me at all, which was worse in a sense. Being the oldest son, he had responsibilities that my father would place on him. He was on route to becoming…show more content… He took his duties seriously he was not only ignoring me now but our other brothers. With my brothers influence our small hamlet went from a dot on the maps no one would visit, to a military hub where traders and soldiers would need to pass through to reach the towns safely. I was now an adult my brother made me captain of the guard to keep the peace, many of the people looked up to me because I did not see people as pawns like my brothers saw them but as human beings. This is the time my journey started. After I had finished my patrol around the village, I went to get a drink with my first lieutenant. He was in his late forties grey hair and a goatee. I on the other was young barely over eighteen, short black hair, full beard and red eyes. We both wore green tunics with chain mail underneath them, decent protection against the common rabble with their daggers and clubs but if we fought a soldier, it would be a…show more content… "but you're our bastard!"
"I'll drink to that!" the lieutenant shouted clanking his tankard with another that was close.
I started to laugh which made the men feel more at ease. They didn't like it when I brought up the fact that I was a bastard because most of them were bastards or had bastards of their own. Just as we all started talking loudly and some of the men began singing the front door to the tavern swung open with a crash, and the room fell silent with a hush. Standing at the door with a handful of guards was my second oldest brother.
"what do you want Quinten?" I asked with a scowl on my face. Wherever he went, he would cause problems for my men and me.
"I just came to talk with my brother, is that such a problem?" he wore a smirk on his face like a badge of honour.
I hated everything about him from his long shoulder length hair to his face that looked more like a woman than a mans. The guards he brought with him were not men of honour but scoundrels and brigands he picked up on his travels around the
