Episode 1: Merciless Mercanaries
Cobalt’s hands brushed his cold steel armor as he walked. His gloves never really managed to keep the low temperatures away, mostly as they were missing fingers, tears where the gloves should branch. His helmet made his breath a mix of humidity and hot night air brushing against his face, making him sweat slightly. The helmet itself was fashioned out of iron and resembled a rhino’s head. At the front of the face, running down the nose, there was a large iron tip that shot up into the air a few inches, rounding into a tip at the top. He thought it made him look pretty cool. His chest piece, made of steel, wasn’t bulky. In fact, it was quite thin for something meant to keep weaponry at bay from Cobalt’s skin. He didn’t mind it though, his mindset was to not get hit in the first place. His black hair was fairly short and dropped slightly below his ears, parting at the side of his forehead. A fairly common cut.
Cobalt felt warmer and warmer as he approached the building, the light shining onto him, his armor gleaming. His white skin was almost translucent in the rays of incandescence. He gripped his longsword’s handle and tightened his hold on his shield, both made out of iron. He sighed, preparing to enter to inn. He knew that criminals and such liked this particular inn. The inn itself was named, “The Inside Out Grattle”. A Grattle was a common creature to be found in basements and in the dark corners of streets. While usually harmless, they can pack a nasty nibble on bare flesh. This is usually what the young ones mistake for monsters under theircots. Cobalt found the name unappetizing, and tried to ignore it as he opened the wooden door to the inn.
The floor was made out of basic rock and such, the walls were wooden and there were two levels to the building. One of which, the top, had beds for rent. The bottom was the basic bar and kitchen. Cobalt coughed as the smoke entered his nose, coming from the kitchen. He waved away at it and continued forth, heading towards the campfire in the middle of the room. Benches surrounded it and he sat down on an empty one, it was only now that he took account for the people surrounding him. The bar at this time of night was loud, especially with all the lumberjacks and huntsman coming back from a fresh spring day of work. Cobalt sighed, opening his knapsack full of notes, Oplins, and documents. He pulled out a few round, nickel Oplins along with a long document full of instructions. A solid mug of ale was around one or two Oplins, depending on the establishment.
Cobalt sat at a stool next to the splintery wooden bar. He waved to the waiter who set down a mug of ale for another customer. He then made his way to Cobalt, the boards creaking under his steps. He had black hair and appeared to be a Caucasian wearing a Lopper leather outfit. Loppers were basic cattle, useful for milk and hide. Cobalt pointed down the bar and said with his noager toned voice, “I’ll have what he’s having.” The man he pointed at eyed him funny. The waiter looked at Cobalt and his eyes narrowed, “Pointin’ is mighty ‘a rude, don’t ya’ think?” Cobalt’s neutral expression turned to a disappointed frown. He stood up and asked once again to receive what the other customer was drinking, all while pointing.
The rest of the inn seemed to stop, as they turned to look at the scene that Cobalt was making. Cobalt didn’t look away for a second. The man he was pointing at stood up, his Mohawk swaying in the air. He wore a tight suit of leather armor, no helmet. He had a measly iron dagger tucked away in his pocket. Cobalt turned to look at the man, taking his helmet off and sitting it on the bar counter. Also Caucasian, the man walked up to Cobalt. He was slightly taller, and had dark brown eyes. The man sat his knife down on the counter, near Cobalt’s helmet. Cobalt noticed that he did this with his right hand. The man looked into Cobalt’s eyes and spoke menacingly, “Put ’at arm down ’fore I snap it.” Cobalt smirked and poked the man’s forehead, the muscle strong. “Boop.” He said. The man rose his right arm and swung at Cobalt. Cobalt noticed in a split second that he used his right arm again. He ducked, the arm swinging the man off balance. Cobalt grunted at he stood back up, his expression turning slightly annoyed. Cobalt put one of his arms behind his back and casted a basic spell named Whul, allowing his joints to move quicker.
The man grew madder at the dodge. Cobalt tried to reason with the man saying, “There’s no need for th-” The man slammed his fist into Cobalt’s face, sending Cobalt flying back onto the ground. Everyone in the inn stared at him on the ground. Cobalt felt his nose bleeding and wiped his nose out of instinct. The blood smeared on his glove. He stood up, his eyes narrowing. Without saying a word, Cobalt kicked the man’s chin at full force, creating a sickening snap. The man held crumpled, reaching down to hold his knee. He stood up and shouted at Cobalt, “I’ll rip ‘ya t’ shreds!” Cobalt nodded and smirked as he pointed behind the man. “Pay for your ale first,” he said, “because you won’t be able to reach the counter when I’m done with you.” The man swung his fist, once again aiming to knock out Cobalt. Cobalt didn’t move, instead he took a chance at grabbing it. Once he had it successfully in his hands, he grabbed two fingers with each hand. He kicked the man in the gut, knocking his breath out. “I don’t like to play dirty, but you left me no choice.” He said to the man who fell to his knees gasping for air. Cobalt begun pulling the fingers in opposite directions as hard as he could. The man screamed, reaching up to grab Cobalt’s arm, but before he could a loud boom sounded throughout the inn. The man’s fingers had snapped.
He fell to the floor, screeching in pain. Cobalt looked at the rest of the inn, his blue eyes flashing at the customers. “Before you guys hate me, I really didn’t want to do that.” The inn all stared, open mouthed, at the noager before them who had just taken down a muscular adult. A noager was of adolescence, usually between 12-18 years old. A man waded through the crowd, stepping up to Cobalt. The man didn’t fit in with the rest of the customers, he was fat and wore a red suit which looked to be made of Lea fur, one of the most expensive furs since to kill Lea you had to take down a 200 pound four legged muscle machine. He had wispy grey hairs atop his head, and a lengthy grey beard. He was a Caucasian, however his tiny height and large size made him not blend in with the furniture. He stood in place for at least 15 seconds, examining Cobalt, head to toe. He finally spoke in a strong deep tone saying, “Perfect. You arrive late and then make a fool of yourself.” He tsked, “Not to worry. I suppose it doesn’t matter so long as you cooperate.” The man handed Cobalt a paper and grabbed a person from the crowd, pulling them out next to him. “Those papers have your instructions. This is your partner. As I have already mentioned, the pay is 200 Oplins, deal?” Cobalt was surprised at the sheer tone of this man, let alone how quick he cut to the chase. Cobalt stuttered, “I was never t-t-old of a partner.” The man furrowed his brow and almost shouted, “I’ll take that as a yes!” He shoved the other person next to Cobalt and pushed them out of the inn.
Cobalt shivered at the sudden cold rush, realizing he had forgot his helmet. He turned back to face the man in the wooden doorway and spoke in an annoyed tone, “You didn’t let me grab my helmet.” The man threw it out to him, Cobalt caught it, and without a goodbye the man slammed the door, almost breaking it off its hinges. “Whelp, so much for goodbyes.” Cobalt said, turning to the person who he has yet to examine. The person was wearing a set of rusted and spiked steel armor. He had a helmet that obscured his face, as well as a steel two-bladed axe on his back. The person also seemed to be a noager, barely as tall as 16 year old Cobalt. “Hello, I suppose we are working together.” Cobalt said, not getting a response. “So uh, do you do this a lot?” Cobalt asked nervously. A light voice of a very young woman arose from the spiked helmet, “Yes. I wasn’t aware I was going to have a partner. I work best alone.” Cobalt was thrown off by the fact that it was a woman. Her armor and her battle axe must’ve given him the wrong idea. “Oh... uh, me neither.” Cobalt replied, “I’m Cobalt.” The woman sighed before simply saying, “Mercury.”
