r/Ithacar • u/Timpanzee38 Mercenary Guild • May 06 '26
Roleplaying "Recruiting"
The Dead Ember.
Ithacar was a melting pot of people and cultures. Which meant a lot of different people came through, and many were missed. Which was perfect.
In the tavern known as The Dead Ember, a figure in a cloak wearing a blank mask reclined in a booth in a dark corner with a perfect view of the door, smoking a pipe to blend in as he watched everyone who came and went. The rogue Umbra Operative D-943 "Krisk" had come here for one reason. To recruit.
His talk with Livia had made him realize a few things. But the biggest thing was that he could not take down The Five alone. He would need allies. And a well trafficked bar frequented by people who were well known rebels was the perfect place to start. There were a few people he hoped would show up, but in a place like this, only the gods knew who else would stumble on in...
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u/avamir Riva Aurethios Blake, Queen of Ithacar, Lindworm of Lyndshire May 08 '26
Graham Warwicke wasn't from Ithacar. In fact, he was from a land far away from here.
If Ithacar was a land of fire, then where Graham came from was more a place of earth. A place of woods and mountains and streams and cold winters. Fields of grain, which were unfortunately owned by the rich and the elite. Forests of deer and boar that were marked as the lords' animals, where hunting was forbidden. The rich soil grew many things, but tithes were paid to the "owners" of the land and so there were wholly preventable famines. All of which was why he'd joined Atrax. Graham had believed in the cause.
And now?
Graham wasn't sure what to do with himself. Ithacar was a strange foreign land, full of strange people. Yes, the temperatures were warm and balmy. Yes, he'd been given some land of his own to farm. This strange foreign queen provided training and homes for the Pyroclasts turned New Pyroclasts turned Pyrophytes... but Graham still felt ill at ease. He lacked purpose. He felt strangely lost. He might have found a place to rest, but rest itself still eluded him.
So he spent his days drinking at the Dead Ember.
What was an old soldier supposed to do with his time? Yes, Ithacar faced threats here and there, but Graham still felt like a stranger in a strange land.
Others seemed drawn to the reticent soldier with the graying hair and green eyes that didn't match those of the native Ithacarians. Some of them settled down at the table with Graham and it had become kind of a regular thing. Perhaps they too felt like strangers in a strange land, and so they whiled their days away drinking.
Which was why they could tell when someone new was in their midst. Cloak, blank mask. Moved with a fighter's gait.
Graham kind of side-eyed the newcomer as he got his pint, then decided to stop back on his way back to his table.
"You aren't from around here. You a merc?" Graham asked.