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Can a Mercenary be merciful?

Nurse_K

Pulsar
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
King Paulus had been the ruler of his nation for a very long time. It was nearly a 40 year reign, one of the longest in the country's history. He thought he was a marvelous king, providing for his country, expanding his borders, and living as a good king should: lavishly.

His people couldn't agree though. They thought he was cruel and merciless. Some days they ate hardly anything, while the Palace held grand balls and banquets. The people at rotten food and had to kill their livestock to feed themselves, while the king piled on extra taxed. They were on the edge of revolution.

To try to fix this, King Paulus had hired a group of the best mercenaries in Europe. They were due to arrive at his castle any day now. They would be stationed outside, ready to fight the people if they decided to storm the castle, as Paulus thought they might. He had spend a great deal of money on these mercenaries, and was going to house them in his castle, feeding them the best they could be fed.

Paulus had a daughter, Princess Elsa. She was just at marrying age, and he was eager to marry her off. It wasn't that he didn't love his daughter, because he did, surely, but it was odd for him to have her in the castle with him. She was the only woman there besides the maids and her handmaidens, his wife had died long ago. Once Elsa had been married and left, he could marry again, find a woman to care for him as he grew old. Elsa was average height and had an average body. Her hair was silky and dark, her eyes a light and piercing blue. She was strong willed but very loving.

Elsa wasn't a fan of her father's methods, but she didn't want to forsake him. She waited with him in the dining hall every morning when they expected the mercenaries to arrive. They'd just recieved word that they were close, and would probably arrive that very day.
 
On that very same day, a group of armored soldiers - if one were to call them that - soon passed through the town on the way to the castle, getting steely-eyed looks from a large majority of the townsfolk. They knew that whoever sent for them was only out to protect the crooked king's interests. One of them however, was not in the least bit intimidated by the townsfolks' hateful glances and instead exchanged a stoic look at them as if he was telling them that he didn't seem to care in the slightest about them.

This individual who only glanced at these people were none other than a legendary mercenary, clad in a well fashioned suit of armor that glinted in the midday sun like so much platnium as the wind blew through his blonde locks, occasionally getting in the way of a set of glacier blue irises that looked as though he could kill a man with just one look while enticing any woman that looked at him. This man was none other than Samson DaVinci, one of the most fiercest and most deadly of them all. His skill with a sword was second to none and matched by even fewer as indicated by the type of blade he wielded, a German designed zweihander (or greatsword) that featured a rather ornate display of a flame-like pattern on the blade and knot-like designs on the pommel as well as the handguard of the large blade. This was in no doubt the infamous yet notorious weapon that Samson carried with him called Firebrand. Infamous because it was supposedly forged from molten lava and notorious because of the damage this weapon could cause with just one swing.

The presence Samson carried with him into the town was something that few had ever dreamed of: Self-confident in his abilities while never being arrogant and cocky, self-righteous in his own beliefs and more importantly, knew the rules of combat and how to break them all for upholding the name and sake of the law. If anyone were to send for him, then they were guaranteed to the one-hundreth percentile that he alone would bring about law and order through any means necessary. Even if it means killing a few lawbreakers in the process.

But for now, he and his team of other mercenaries arrived into the castle after explaining themselves to the gatekeepers outside that they were all summoned here by the king and were all directed inside.

Samson would be the first to dismount from his horse slowly and handed the reins to a nearby squire who only nodded his head at him and proceeded towards the castle with a plain, undisturbed look on his face.
 
Paulus heard the mercenaries approaching and jumped up, walking briskly toward the welcoming hall. "Elsa, come with me." he commanded. She rolled her eyes and stood up slowly, making her way to the welcoming hall in her own time. She stood beside her father, who was at least a head taller than her. She looked toward the large doors that were the main entrance to the castle, awaiting their opening. Her father was almost bouncing with excitement. There was nothing he loved more than war and soldiers.

The large doors opened slowly, taking four guards to open them. The mercenaries piled in slowly, lead by the most legendary of mercenaries. Elsa looked them all over with intense scrutiny, prepared to despise them all. Her eyes fell on the very first however, and all she could see were his piercing blue eyes. She was struck by them, she'd never seen eyes such as those.

Paulus stepped forward. "Ah, gentleman. I welcome you to my humble abode. Samson DaVinci, I welcome you most of all. I have been awaiting you a long time. I am most thankful to you for defending my castle, and most importantly, my daughter." Paulus snapped his fingers, expecting Elsa to run to his heels. She didn't move however, her eyes moving from Samson's to the back of her father's head in an icy glare. He turned and looked at her, his brows furrowed, "Elsa..." he cautioned and she stepped forward to his side.

He turned back around and plastered the smile back on his face, "This is my beautiful, loving, caring, yet at time obstinant daughter, Elsa."
 
Samson's attention was soon drawn to the king who merely greeted the mercenary group with open arms. Samson would only respond with a simple nod of his head and spoke simply. "Indeed it has, Your Majesty. Ever since my last job that involved taking out 30 drow singlehandedly, I believed it was high time to take some time off at the zenith of my career." He explained himself with a pat of his chest, speaking purely with confidence. "So you thanks is very welcomed, Your Highness." He added, bowing respectfully before him as well.

After a moment, Samson glanced over to the young woman that was now standing beside him with a slight look of shock on her face as if she had never seen someone such as him before. In all honesty, it was rather the same way with him once he laid his eyes on her, even though he had seen most princesses of the same equivalent. However, most of them were nothing more than snobbish pigs of women, often opting out of any relationship with them immediately. But this one, however... She was something that most men often dreamed of even having the priviledge of even being beside.

"And a lovely little flower she is, my lord." He spoke again as he gently took Elsa's hand and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles before turning to face the king. "So... What business is it that you have called me out here for, anyway?" He eventually asked, arching an eyebrow as his face became one that wanted to discuss business.
 
Elsa stood frozen as the man came forward and kissed her hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She closed it again immidiately, blushed deeply, and stepped back a little bit behind her father once he let her hand go. Many, many, men had kissed her hand before, but none had sent such sparks up her spine. She was completely amazed by this man, though he appeared so rough and wartorn, his kiss had been the gentlest she'd ever felt.

Her father nodded, "Yes, she is. My pride and joy." then he cleared his throat, "Ah. Business. I want you men to defend my castle from the rebelling people. They are shouting revolution and mutiny, and I will not have that. Are you up to the task of defending me and my daughter from their horrible plans? Of course you are. You are the best mercenaries out there."
 
Samson arched an eyebrow at Paulus for a moment as he looked at him with a slightly irked look on his face. Not many would want to rush Samson into something without further explaination or just dumping the responsiblity on him, but he supposed there would be further explaination for this matter later.

"Not without a fee, of course." Samson answered crossing his arms across his chest as his face became a more relaxed look as he studied the king with eyes of a scholar. "I believe even someone like you should know better than that, I'm certain." He added, tapping a gauntlet covered finger against the upper arm layer of armor.
 
"Of course of course of course!" Paulus exlaimed with a hearty laugh, "Good sir, I never expected you to do anything without a fee. No great man puts him life on the line without being paid well." he smiled, he liked Samson very much, the man reminded Paulus of himself when he had been much younger.

"Now, your fee has been arranged with my treasurer. You are to be lodged and fed here, given the best food and the best rooms available. The only ones not open to you are the servant's quarters, my quarters, and my daughter's quarters. You are to be paid three hundred drach a week, with each of your men being paid two-fifty a week. Is there anything else you require?"
 
"Understood, my liege." Samson answered with an acknowledging nod and a smile. "For it is written within my soul to serve others such as yourself." He added, despite he had a somewhat begrudging thought about him the exact instant that he saw him. Something that just seemed... Different, perhaps.

Nevertheless, the amount posed to him was something that could suit him well for quite some time. "Sounds reasonable to me. I'd expect not a cent less nor a cent more from you." He added, smiling still at him. "In any case..." He continued, pondering as to what else would be needed, a thought soon came to mind.

"One of the things some of my men require is access to the parapets. They are excellent marksmen with crossbows that can get the early drop on those that dare to charge this establishment." Samson concluded with a nod of his head.
 
Paulus raised his eyebrows. So he was getting archers along with excellent calvary and infantry. How excellent for him. "Of course. Your men shall have access to every training facility and battle position that they might need." he grinned widely, he was getting such a good deal out of this. His disgusting people were going to be taught a lesson, they would never revolt against him again.

The luncheon bell tolled within the castle and Paulus clapped his hands, "Ah! Luncheon! I'm sure you men are hungry, having traveled this long way. I do hope that you will join me in the banquet hall." he waved them toward the hall and walked briskly towards it, snapping his fingers at Elsa.

Elsa rolled her eyes at him but followed, taking one last glance at Samson before she went off toward the banquent hall. Once inside she sat to the left of her father as she always did. She knew that Samson had the choice of seating, he could either sit to the right of her father or to her right, both were the most honored of spots.
 
"Indeed, we are, Your Highness." Samson chimed in as he looked up at the ceiling for a moment when he heard a bell toll somewhere inside while a few more of his men soon began to filter inside the castle. Turning back for a moment, he then raised his hands upward and shouted to them.

"Brothers! Today and tonight we feast and drink! Tomorrow, we shall all dine in hell when the first body hits the ground in the form of a bloodied carcass!" He shouted to the ten men that were inside, getting a raucous cheering of his men, smirking to himself afterwards. "Come, my brothers! To the banquet hall! There will be food enough to last you for days and nights, all of which has been prepared by the finest chefs this kingdom has to offer!" He called again, getting the same raucous cheering, this time from 30 more before leading them all into the banquet hall and began being seated. Samson, however, took his presitigous spot beside the young maiden before smiling up at Paulus.
 
Elsa blushed a little bit when Samson sat next to her. She fidgeted in her seat for a moment, but then chided herself and sat starkly still, trying to maintain the facade that she held no interest in the mercenary. The food was brought out and she took what she wanted, eating slowly. She glanced down the table at the slew of rowdy men who were feasting as though they hadn't eaten so well in years.

She snuck little glances at Samson now and then as they ate. Her father was blathering on and on, slowly getting drunk. Her father loved wine, loved eating, loved being a man in general. She usually left the dining table fairly early, she didn't like to be around when the real craziness began...but she didn't want to leave Samson's presence just yet.
 
When everyone began eating, Samson was actually one of them who decided to act in a more conservative manner to his eating style, pausing with his meal every once in a while to take a drink of the wine that was offered to him but passed on everything else that came his way. Soon, he found himself quite irked with the amount of rabblerousing from everyone at the table, from the king to Samson's own men. Politely, Samson excused himself from the table, telling everyone that he had to go and use the outhouse for a while when he really noticed that somewhere during the course of the meal, he had the attention of the princess that had occasionally snuck little glances at him every so often.

Samson would eventually stand outside the dining hall, glancing back at the princess and smiled at her before beckoning her over to him as if to say, "I feel like talking to you for a little while if it's alright with you". It was a merely kind gesture, nothing fancy about it.
 
Elsa had been sad to see Samson get up to leave, now there was no one with any kind of semblence of manners left at the table. She occasionally glanced toward the door hoping to see him returning. Her heart fluttered when she saw him standing there, beckoning to her. She had to excercise major constraint not to just leap up from the table and sprint over to him. That wouldn't be royal, nor proper, nor respectful. She placed her cloth napkin on her plate and turned to her father, excusing herself. She stood slowly, and all of the men at the table turned to look at her and began to yell for her to stay.

She shook her head politely, curtsied, and walked slowly towards the door, though she walked out of grabbing range of all the mercenaries there at the table. She got to the door and went through it, turning and walking up to the staircase as if she could not see Samson standing there. When she got to the staircase she heaved a huge sigh of relief and turned back around to look at him.

"Thank you for saving me from that, I don't know how much longer I could have stood it." she whispered with a timid smile.
 
"I can understand your wanting to leave the table, Elsa, for I too was growing rather weary of my men's behavior. They may eat and drink and grow fat as well as drunk then become blathering idiots like your father, but unlike him, they will know that they will have to straighten up tomorrow. If they feel somewhat ill, then that's not my concern. They are here for one thing and one thing only and that is to serve under me for this purpose until the job is done." Samson explained with a purpose.

"But, I suppose I can hold my personal opinions about your father for another day." He added, brushing a hand through his hair for a moment and aiming his eyes at Elsa's before smiling. "Pardon me for asking this, Elsa, but would you like to go out for a walk around the grounds while we let the others take care of themselves?" He asked, smiling and extending an arm out to her.
 
She broke out into a wide grin as he offered to walk with her. "I would love that, sir" she answered as dignified as she possibly could. In truth, her eyes were completely lost in his, she was captivated by him for a reason that she could not pin down. He had an essence that eminated from him, that had hooked her and was now pulling her in. She'd always been kind to suitors, but she was being more then just welcoming to him...and he wasn't even a suitor.

She put grasped his arm softly, standing close to next to him. Her heart fluttered a little bit, being so close to him. He was such a hulking man, and yet she felt such gentleness and sophistication from him. His profession was not a depictor of his nature.
 
Samson would then curl an arm around her own before leading the way outside the castle walls, smiling as he went. For some reason or another as he continued guiding her outside, there was something about this charming beauty that he just couldn't decipher: A human puzzle, if you will. For a moment when he arrived, she wasn't the slightest bit interested in him up until just recently. Now, there they were, one arm curled over the other heading outside of the castle and out into the royal gardens, far from the prying eyes of any and all who would see them.

Once they were there, Samson decided to take a little initiative to get to know this lovely woman. Veering his eyes over to her as the two walked, Samson spoke. "So tell me, Elsa... What is it like, living here under the thumb of your father? Judging from how I saw things, it doesn't appear to me that you seem to enjoy it much." He spoke, arching an eyebrow as he spoke.
 
She laughed a little as he mentioned her father, leaning against Samson softly while they walked together, as was the custom. She nodded, "You're right. I don't enjoy it at all. He never gives me any freedom, he treats me like property. He speaks about marrying me off to the highest bidder and waiting for me to bear children, especially sons, so that he will have an grandheir," she shook her head and sighed. "I never wanted that for myself...but it's what I have to live with. I am a woman, that's what my life is meant to be."

It pained her a little bit to talk about this, especially to a man. She knew it was her duty to marry and have children, and it wasn't that that she was opposed to. She was sure she would love having children. It was that she had no choice in the matter, not even in who she was supposed to marry that bothered her.

"He doesn't even listen to me when I speak. Ever since my mother died he barely pays attention to me aside from putting me on display."
 
"I can sense your frustrations, Elsa. It tells me more than I can already hear from your voice." Samson answered, shaking his head and continuing to gaze at her with an understanding gaze. "If you desire my opinion on the whole matter, I believe that you father should not have an heir to the throne if all he does is just act like a moronic pig of a man." He added, his voice knowing full well of what he meant.

"But allow me to simplify things for you." He continued, going silent for a moment. "What do you think of me, Elsa?" He asked, looking over to her with an arched eyebrow.
 
She was a little bit surprised at how bold he was being with her. She could have him assassinated for saying such things about her father, but she felt that he already knew she would never do a thing like that. She looked up at him in surprise when he asked what she thought of him. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, not sure of how to answer him.

She blinked a couple of times, trying to organize her thoughts. "I...I think that you're an incredibly sophisticated man, surprisingly so for your profession, I hope you don't mind me saying." she paused for a moment, not sure whether or not she should go on. "And...I find myself drawn to you," she admitted.
 
Samson nodded in reaction to her first comment before smiling at her second one. "I get that a lot about my mannerisms, Elsa. You're not the first to express that to me." He answered, turning to her with that same smile. "I believe I was called very frank for a trained swordsman." He added, quirking an eyebrow as he spoke as he turned his head forwards and walked on.

"And as for what you feel about me," Samson continued, pausing once more as if he was choosing his words carefully. "Now that I know how you feel about me, would it be wrong for me to say that ever since I saw you here, that I also find myself quite fond of you?" He asked, turning to Elsa and gazing at her fully.
 
Her eyes grew wide as he said that he was was fond of her. She blushed and cast her eyes downward for a moment, trying to think of what to say. "I...I would say...that that comes as quite a shock," she said softly, a flood of excitement running through her. No man had ever expressed fondness to her before, only lust or power over her. All of her suitors had tried to take posession of her, even before any promise was made to them from her or her father.

She smiled widely, "You are quite a man, Samson. Unlike any that I have ever met," she walked with him slowly, their feet in step with the other's.
 
"Don't let what I say ever come to shock you, my dear princess," Samson answered with a simple shake of his head and a smile. "I am merely just expressing what I feel about you in my own heart." He added, nodding once before aiming his eyes of glacier blue at her excited face.

"Secondly, I do believe I see myself as someone outside the normal paradigm of men. Most men these days are usually out for three things: Money, power and women all while trying to cover their own rear ends as if whatever action they make has some kind of reprecussion attached to it. In my case, I believe in those three things but unlike the other men, I believe it all comes with time and effort. Once you've waited a sufficient amount of time and put in your effort, then and only then can you acquire what it is that you've hoped to attain." Samson explained afterwards as he continued to walk beside her, his steps matching her strides at the same steady and even pace.
 
She nodded slowly as they walked along together, her hand gripping his arm a little tighter now. She looked up at the bright blue sky, the clouds moving slowly across it. She wish she was a cloud. Able to move about wherever and whenever she liked, driven by what was within her, what she wanted, rather than what someone else told her she had to be. She would float through the sky all day long, moving about, twisting and reshaping herself as she liked.

"You have at least two of those things, Samson. Do you have a woman that belongs to you?" she asked him, saying the words as though they meant nothing significant. In her society, women belonged to men, and that was how it was. No one ever questioned that, especially not the most prized woman in the nation.
 
Samson frowned at Elsa's question slightly before he shook his head slowly in response. Even his manner of speaking changed somewhat, as if he didn't really care much for the topic at hand. "Sadly, I do not." He answered, closing his eyes and arching an eyebrow as if he was suddenly lost in thought. "Possibly because I haven't had the time nor the reason to have a woman hanging off of my arm if only the rules state that she is nothing more than an accessory." He added, his tone sounding somewhat bitter for a moment.

Aside from owning slaves and other such things considered as property in his world, women and children were as equal to men in uniform. He absolutely detested the idea that such a lowbrow thing as this concept actually ran here. Many men in power in his land before have sought to rewrite these laws into something else, much like the way things are done here, but Samson was one of the few who denounced the theory. He would even go so far as to ensure that the law stays the same. Even if it meant his blade would get a little bloody in the process.
 
"Ah...I see. Well, I'm sure you will find yourself one eventually, or one will be given to you," she smiled up at him, her hand pressing into his arm as they walked. She noticed the bitterness in his voice but brushed it off, it was only a tinge anyway. She looked up at the clear blue sky, wishing for a moment that she could just fly away into it. She sighed and looked back at him, "I do hope you live through this ordeal. I wouldn't want your death at the hands of a despot."

Elsa had no qualms calling her father a despot, as that was what he was. He only paid for these mercenaries to come here to protect him from his own people. His own people wanted to revolt against him, that had to say something about his ruling methods. It made her so angry to think about it. Sometimes she wanted to run away, but she knew she couldn't do that. She wouldn't get far.
 
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