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Prologue

  It started as a couple fishermen to fend off the wolves. When the raiders came, the farmers and daytalers joined the fight. When bandits attacked our merchant carts, experienced fighters from nearby villages came to the call and we became a militia of mercenaries looking for the fight rather than waiting for the next between our full-time jobs. We are the Militia of Sandwik. Work became steady and the influx of coin was more than we could manage. Our fame grew until nobles from nearby cities considered to join. However, nobles always ask for something in return for their coin; this time it was a battle between their highborn.

  We didn’t know their quarry, all that mattered was the coin to feed our families. So we went. Unfortunately, us "lowborn" were not to join this highborn in battle. Instead, we were used in the initial charge into the front line of the enemy while the "noble" archers rained arrows. We lost many good men, friends, and brothers.

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  After the battle, I spoke to the men as we gathered the supplies we were allowed. The payment was acquired along with the memory of what fame means in battle. We are falling back to the mission of the Militia of Sandwik: to help the people of the continent that do not have a voice. There are twelve of us left after the slaughter, so we set off for adventure to help those really in need. Though we are not in this for the coin and fame, we will inevitably make some along the way.

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