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Quoted By: >>6018284
On the star of Velekam, the small eye of the world god known as the continent Vinstraga, the outskirts of the capital of the Archduchy, Strosstadt in Strossvald, a young woman from nowhere tries her best to sail the sea of fates in a place most unfamiliar to her.
What she thought was hers, a chance unexpected yet hard fought for and fairly won, seems poised to slip from her grasp. Unless she fights for it- well used she is to such circumstances, yet in spite of the stakes being so important to her, mere victory is meaningless. For she wants to be chosen, as she chose the man she pursues.
Perhaps, her freedom has no point if she cannot share the same with those dearest to her.
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You are Anya Nowicki. Retinue and thus Sergeant to Major Richter Von Tracht, but currently undergoing officer training for the country you are both signed under, the Archduchy of Strossvald. His loyalty to it is one of national birth and duty- yours much less that. Retinues weren’t necessarily mercenaries, but you considered yourself one still for the freedom such an identity gave.
It was what made the Army of the Archduchy readily look the other way, when you had thrown in with the Netillian Republic to fight off their overlords in the recent short-lived civil war to the east, though that had come right in the middle of the renewal of yet another conflict. You were loathe to explain your place and circumstances throughout- only that you were accustomed, in mercenary life, to the feeling of friends and enemies changing places with the wind, and the odd mix of lingering sentiment, but also respect for the life of a warrior. Hell, your adoptive father figure, had romanticized it as the whims of fate and destiny, a far easier quandary than those who fought former friends, alongside former enemies, for the sake of things like political scheming and the distant motivations of cabals and cliques.
<span class="mu-i">Why</span> you’d gone over to another war, one you had little care for what side prevailed over the other, was standing beside you now. Magnus Edelschwert, who had aligned himself with the Netillian Republican Uprising, who claimed to fight for freedom from tyranny and for the principles of Republicanism (Liberty, security and prosperity, or something).
Could it still be called mercenary work when there wasn’t any contract save for that between yourself and your dreams? It mattered little now. Your time in that war had been short- but it had been fierce nevertheless. Yet also an adventure, in the mad way that even some soldiers couldn’t understand. As far as you were concerned, your time there hadn’t been for any Republican ideal or redressing of grievances against the Military Government that had usurped it and then fallen in turn, it was for now. For this moment, and for the treasured times beyond it.
What she thought was hers, a chance unexpected yet hard fought for and fairly won, seems poised to slip from her grasp. Unless she fights for it- well used she is to such circumstances, yet in spite of the stakes being so important to her, mere victory is meaningless. For she wants to be chosen, as she chose the man she pursues.
Perhaps, her freedom has no point if she cannot share the same with those dearest to her.
-----
You are Anya Nowicki. Retinue and thus Sergeant to Major Richter Von Tracht, but currently undergoing officer training for the country you are both signed under, the Archduchy of Strossvald. His loyalty to it is one of national birth and duty- yours much less that. Retinues weren’t necessarily mercenaries, but you considered yourself one still for the freedom such an identity gave.
It was what made the Army of the Archduchy readily look the other way, when you had thrown in with the Netillian Republic to fight off their overlords in the recent short-lived civil war to the east, though that had come right in the middle of the renewal of yet another conflict. You were loathe to explain your place and circumstances throughout- only that you were accustomed, in mercenary life, to the feeling of friends and enemies changing places with the wind, and the odd mix of lingering sentiment, but also respect for the life of a warrior. Hell, your adoptive father figure, had romanticized it as the whims of fate and destiny, a far easier quandary than those who fought former friends, alongside former enemies, for the sake of things like political scheming and the distant motivations of cabals and cliques.
<span class="mu-i">Why</span> you’d gone over to another war, one you had little care for what side prevailed over the other, was standing beside you now. Magnus Edelschwert, who had aligned himself with the Netillian Republican Uprising, who claimed to fight for freedom from tyranny and for the principles of Republicanism (Liberty, security and prosperity, or something).
Could it still be called mercenary work when there wasn’t any contract save for that between yourself and your dreams? It mattered little now. Your time in that war had been short- but it had been fierce nevertheless. Yet also an adventure, in the mad way that even some soldiers couldn’t understand. As far as you were concerned, your time there hadn’t been for any Republican ideal or redressing of grievances against the Military Government that had usurped it and then fallen in turn, it was for now. For this moment, and for the treasured times beyond it.
