Yes, yes, alright you fuckers. I'm the captain of this company, Symon Symondson, and you're all prospective new recruits.

Congratulations, you're hired.

Why are you still here?

Fine, fine, I'll give the bloody talk. Fuck off, Corbray.

Right you lot, listen up. Corbray spiked my wine last night so I'm hungover as hell and can't be arsed to answer questions today, so you're gonna sit down, listen to me, and shut the fuck up. Take notes, this shits important. No, I don't care if you can't write.

Okay, lesson one: if the man next to you has something that could improve your life kill him. It doesn't matter if you get what made his life better or not, since he's not around to enjoy it anymore, and that's the important bit.

Nah, I'm just fucking with you. Kind of. I mean, it is good advice, but it's not really legal or useful right now so let's move on with this... I don't know, lecture? Calling it a lecture makes it sound like I can read which isn't strictly true. I only know how to forge a couple of merchant's and banker's signatures. Yeah, I don't actually know what the letters are but I memorised what they looked like. That came in handy when I was younger, lemme tell ya. All right, all right, I'll get on with the actual talk, leave me be.

Right, Umbra. Dangerous things those beasts, aye; a wolf the size of a house or a boar the size of a barn ain't nothing to sneer at. I've seen the bastards cleave through ranks of armoured men without so much as breaking stride. Still, least they ain't as bad as in me great-grandsire's day. Back then they got much bigger, and took on far more dangerous forms; gigantic men, great winged lions and horses that made even Brythonian Drafts look like a fleck of shit on a boot. 'pparently the greatest of all of them took the form of a massive Drake, and when it died its bones turned to stone, creating the Drakespine Mountains. Yeah, exactly, be glad they ain't what they used to be. Well, on land anyway. Them lot that still live in the sea... There's a reason I stick to land; I ain't taking any chances.

Right, so the local lords got one of these buggers ravaging his lands. Couldn't give a shit about the people on it, let them die he thinks, till he remembers that they're the lot that pay him taxes. He doesn't wanna risk losing his own men, after all, their equipment's all fancy and expensive, and they're more suited to looking pretty than killing monstrous folk. The local village usually tries to get the bastard themselves, but that goes about as well as you'd expect it to. So, they all turn to us. We're cheaper than knights, and almost as good at killing, so they let us have a go at it. Course usually a few of us die as well, but you know why? It's always the ones that think they know better than what the veterans, like me, have told 'em. The ones that think they're a hero out of the stories, standing sword in hand against a giant monster. If any of 'em actually succeed and take one down themselves do yourself a favour and kill him yourself. You'll never hear the end of it for weeks after otherwise, and it gets them an unbearable amount of attention from the women you run into. Or the men, if that's what you're more into. Point is, nothing riles up a couple of willing bed-warmers like someone who's single-handedly killed a monster a dozen times their size.

No, I see that look in some of your eyes. Some of you think it might be worth the risk now I've said that. Go ahead, try it yourself. I won't stop you from getting yourself killed. Why?

Because I love watching cunts like you fail.

Of course, there's a lot of different types of umbra. Direwolves are probably the most common, and some of the most dangerous. Why? Well, it's true that they're far from the largest type of umbra generally, but "small umbra" still means "grows to around the size of a house". But the real reason for their danger is that they're pack hunters; if you can only see one direwolf, then I've got some absolutely shit news for you. Actually it's more for your next of kin, since you won't be around to hear it.

Normally the packs range from six to twelve direwolves in size, but the largest I 'eard of was four-dozen strong. You'd need hundreds of men for a fight like that. A thousand, to be safe.

Generally speaking, keep yourself in a tightly packed group and where possible, use your longbows to take down as many as you can before they get close. If you're lucky they'll see sense after you kill about a quarter of their pack.

Annoyingly they can be found just about anywhere. The Heptarchy, Scelopyrea, Tilda, Dathan, they're everywhere. Only place I know that's got them on the run is one of the Brythonian islands, since their wildhounds are trained to rip 'em to shreds. You might laugh at that, but those dogs are worth their weight in gold on the mainland. Well, they would be if anyone here knew how to control them.

I don't even know why Im bothering to tell you about them, since you'll have probably had to cower from one yourself at some point, but hey, maybe one or two of you have lived an extremely sheltered life before now. Any runaway lordlings or royals hiding in the company? No? Clever, keep your mouth shut if you're out there. Most of the older members of this company don't take too kindly to noble types.

Anyway. Longbows, tight groups, and fire. They hate fire, more than any other animal I know. A little torch ain't gonna scare any of 'em 'cept maybe a pup, but if you're in a tight spot try setting a tree on fire, or a prepared bonfire if you somehow have the time. It won't kill them, but some'll linger at the edges of the light for some reason, staring into the flames. Make sure you kill those ones. Don't let them live. I don't care if you have to chase them for weeks to make sure they're dead. You can't let them live after they've stared into the flames.

I... I don't know why. It's a gut feeling. Them that stay to look into the fires are... they're wrong somehow. Ask anyone else who's hid 'round a fire to buy some time. They'll tell you the same thing. Make sure they don't live. I don't know why, but you have to. They're smarter than you think, those wolves. They don't make the same mistake twice, and I don't want them learning.

Next most common is probably the nester. Nesters are nasty bastards, and families are extremely territorial. You know them stories you were told as a kid to scare you into being good? The ones where naughty children get carried off by huge birds never to be seen again? Yeah... you shouldn't need to think too hard to work out where those stories come from.

I'll give you a hint. It's nesters. Man-sized corvids from the south of the Heptarchy.

Generally they're only found in deep forests, which means they aren't seen much outside of Owkrestos and little bits of Kortheros and Triarios. Good. The hunters down there can take care of 'em. I don't like having to fight the bastards since they can fly, and I can't.

A few make their way further north. More of them should is what I say. They get worshipped as manifestations of the gods by the northmen. If there was half a brain between all these fucking birds, they'd be flocking up there.

Why yes, that pun was intended. Interrupt again and I'll fockin' use your guts to grease my armour.

Even so, they're not too difficult to kill. Unless you get lucky your longbow isn't gonna be much use against them, which makes them the exception to the rule, but they go down proper easy to a mace or axe. Brought one down once and tried to find out why; turns out their bones are hollow, and brittle as you like. Strike em good once and chances are they won't last.

They're dangerous all right, but fragile. Keep your wits about you and make sure you've got someone watching every direction.

Including up. Especially up.

Hmm, what else. I 'spose next most likely for you to face are Boarsow. See, now we get to the ones that are dangerous individually. They're solitary, and thank fuck for that small mercy. When fully grown they're the size of a barn, with tusks the size of a warhorse. If you wanna take one of these buggers down your handheld weapons ain't gonna cut it. Literally; their hides are damn tough. You'll need a scorpion or five to reliably kill one of the bastards, better still would be one of them ballista the Armsmen have, but it’s definitely the most rewarding kill you'll ever make.

You can feed a hundred men for weeks on the carcass, and if you can boil that leather and work it into armour it'll be damn hardy. Not as good as plate of course, but you'll give standard chainmail a run for its money. Castle-forged chainmail will still be better, but then castle-forged anything is better. Fuckin' rich bastards, hogging all the good steel.

Uhm... any others you might fight... Oh, there's rumours that some of the Jotun survived in the far north! But then again, if that's true then they're pretty much never seen anyways. Can't say I blame 'em for hiding after what other intelligent creatures did to 'em last time. Say what you will about the tales of what happened in Jotunheim, of whether or not you believe in the tales. I do.

They say that the last dragons put the city of the giant folk to the torch in jealousy, for the Jotun were the rising star to their setting sun. The dragons knew they were dying, and wanted to drag at someone else with them as they faded into the abyss. Good riddance to both of 'em, I says.

Again, you might not believe it ever happened. It was centuries ago if e're it did, so I don't blame you. But one thing's for certain: there's still a city out there covered in snow, a city of charred timbers and the ruins of homes the size of castles.

If there are any Jotun left, like the rumours say, maybe it's best they stay far away. I doubt we'd treat them any better than the dragons did.

Nah, the dragons weren't umbra. To be honest I don't know how a giant fire-breathing lizard is much different to a giant wolf or crow, but I don't make the rules. Some fancy bloke I met said they weren't and pointed at a book to tell me why. 'Course I couldn't read it, but he seemed damn sure of himself on that matter. Dragons are probably the only thing im definitely sure are all dead. Why? Cause if any were still around they'd lord over us like kings and queens, and there ain't many who could kill 'em.

You wanna hear about them umbra in the seas? Why? You plan on growing fins and fighting them? Fucking hell, am I your commander or your wetnurse?

Angels help me, I must be getting soft. Fine. So long as no one asks any more fucking questions, I'll throw in what I know.

I'm not a sailor. I don't know much about 'em. All I do know is that we've done a damn good job at hunting the umbra on land, where we can chase them until they break. We're endurance hunters, you see. You'll never outrun a direwolf or boarsow in a sprint, but we can chase them for days until they collapse.

We can't do that with them lot beneath the waves.

If any of you are from the Teleytaian coast you might even revere them as primordial evil deities or something. I don't care much for that, but to each their own.

What I do know is that they stay far out to sea, in the deepest places they can find.

Most live in the freezing waters of the north, taking on the shapes of squids, whales and serpents, though I'll be damned if there aren't a few different ones hidden away in the south that no-ones seen since the Sotenari and Nekhtoudum collapsed.

I don't really know much more than that about the aquatic ones to be honest. Legends and stories say that two serpents vie for control of the Great Ocean, Jormungandr and Ouroboros, but they don't cause much of a stir inland if they're real. At hundreds of miles long you'd think someone would have noticed them by now if they do exist. Though the stories have to come from somewhere, I suppose.

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According to that one cult on the west coast- sorry, that's a rude term? I don't care. Apparently that cult- wait, isn't it literally called "The Cult of the Deep Waves"? How the fuck can you be annoyed at me calling it a cult if it has "cult" in the name? Yeah, sit the fuck back down. Anyway, according to that one cult on the west coast it's only the Angel of the Seas, Hydran, that keeps the oceanic umbra at bay.

Though if I recall, they also say one day he'll fail and the world will be plunged into the icy depths.

Cheerful buggers, aren't they?

There are other legendary umbra, of course. Fenrir, Garmr, and Beowulf, the three hounds. Hildisvini, the great boar. There's Ouroboros and Jormungandr, as mentioned, and Ymir, father of the giants. There's tales of a great spider umbra in the jungles of Sothena, and a hundred more besides. You wanna learn about them? Ask a fucking nanny to tell you at bedtime. Or a priest, though there's not much difference between the two, I find.

Right then. So, being a Sellsword. What's it like? The name should tell you enough. Sellsword. If you can't work out what that means you're beyond saving. I suppose the name's meant to be an insult; someone who cares more for money than honour. Take it as an insult if you want, just make sure you take their coin with it. It's them that want to pay for our services, which means it ain't our fault that we're the only ones with enough brains between our ears to get paid for it. You'll have two best friends on the job: your blade and your bow. Fact of the matter is it may not be as 'honourable' to kill a man from two-hundred metres away, but by the end of it you'll still be alive and unharmed. If you do it properly, he won't be. If you can't use a longbow properly, here's a bit of advice. Learn. Swordplay and axework might save you when we're fighting bandits and other men, but the further away you can be from an angry Umbra the better. Trust me, and remember what I told you before; you don't want any part of a pissed off Umbra. If one gets so close that you're gonna need your blade, then the rest of your life is probably measured in seconds unless you remember your lessons.

As for fighting other men, blades are the go-to choice, and the options you'll probably be stuck between are a greatseaxe or longaxe. Some prefer to go for a one-handed weapon instead, like a longseaxe or hand axe, since it lets them take a buckler or roundshield in their off-hand, but I don't like how bulky shields are, and a one-handed weapon doesn't tend to have enough reach for me. Well, some one-handed weapons do, but unless you can prise the castle-forged steel from a dead knight then they'll be way out your price range.

You should've seen me father back in his day. Sired me on some bitch when the company passed through. Horrible cow, still got a scar on me cheek here, see? Got that from a red-hot poker when she didn't like the fact I'd been fooled by a farmer at the market, brought some bad food. When he passed back through and found that she'd been beating me black and blue he struck her dead and took me with him, trained me to kill. Angels, he was a damn good man. Company used to be full of them, now I'm stuck with buggers like you.

T' Company wasn't even really meant to form. Just him and a couple other lads hopped the border to Owkrestos one day and killed a few bandits raiding a village. To be honest they only really hoped to loot the bandit's bodies, but then the village held a 'feast' for them, and paid them what they could. Next day, hungover to shit, one of them goes, "We should do this more often."

Unfortunately he slipped and fell backwards onto his knife two-dozen times before he could tell anyone else about the idea. Then me dad took his plan and founded the company.

See, that's the next lesson I gotta teach you whoresons. If the man stood next to you has an idea that could make you rich, fucking take it from him. Doesn't matter what he is to you. Could be a stranger, a friend, a brother. Could be your fucking lover for all the good it'll do. If you can use them to better your own position, do it.

Yeah, I know. Sounds depressing. And stupid, given that you'll normally be stood next to each other in a shield wall. But I don't really give a fuck. Look, if you're smart, then you'll know when to apply that lesson and when not to. If you're not, then the blokes around you will kill you back. Doesn't make too much of a difference to me, but I imagine it'll make a hell of a lot of difference to you.

Right, I should probably get to the actual important bits of being a sellsword. Remember this next bit whether you stick with the company or not, since it's probably the most important thing you'll learn: DO NOT FIGHT THE BARBARIANS.

No, I'm being serious.

You think I'm joking? You got ideas in your head that they're a bunch of mystics dancing naked to summon rain or backwards pagans? Go ahead, try and fight them yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you when you're dead.

Look, I know we look at the barbarians wearing almost nothing and fighting with shoddily forged weapons and think they're easy targets, but there's something you need to remember.

When you get your first kill on the battlefield, it'll be some destitute farmer drafted into a lord’s army and sent out with a pitchfork beaten into a spear. You think that makes you a man?

The barbarians, all three groups of 'em, train for combat before they can walk. I'm not exaggerating either.

The Brythonians can cut down ranks of armoured knights from well over three-hundred meters away, and only the heaviest plate armour can hope to stop their arrows.

I would say that if you find one of their longbows keep it for your own, since they're a damn sight better than ours, but there's no point. I doubt any of you could pull back the drawstring on the heavy buggers.

Scelopyrene next. Oh boy, you ain't got a hope in hell of beating one of those bastards. If a Scelopyrene hasn't killed his sixth man by sixteen he's written off as a lost cause by his tribe and cast out to die in the wild. If he survives then he's accepted back in, since he's gotta be a damn tough bastard to survive out in those wilds.

Yeah, there's a lot more umbra left north of the Aenir. Even without them, the winds and snows will kill most in a week.

If they can survive up there, no matter their circumstances, then they can kill you easily.

Worst of the lot are the Skonisnomas. They're practically born in their saddles, and you'll never catch their horses. Flighty buggers, they are. If they're on the field they'll have a hail of arrows constantly falling whether they're going forwards or backwards. The only people I know who can reliably beat them are the Order of the Seeker in Polaeros, but if you have to fight them...

Okay, so let's assume that for whatever reason you're fighting a northman. What should you do to try and stay alive?

I'll put aside the snarky bullshit for a moment, and believe me, I don't do that often, and avoid making jokes about how you shouldn't be on that field to begin with.

If you're fighting a Scelopyrene warrior, use your longbow. They've got very little ranged capabilities, save for their throwing axes and javelins. Your longbow will outrange the lot of them. If it's one of their berserkers however, you'd best play it safe and fire as many arrows as possible, then hope for the best. I've seen them shrug off wounds that'd kill any other man a dozen times over when they go into their feral rages.

For the Skonisnomas you wanna get behind a shield wall and fire as many volleys at them as possible. Their horses are fast but unarmoured, and there ain't much meat on them either. That means that an arrow to their horse will almost certainly take them down. Course they can still fight on foot, and quite well to boot, but their mobility is their main advantage. Take that away, and the go down like any other.

You'll notice that the longbow is key in most of these scenarios. It's why I respect the Armsmen over knights; they know what works. Now the chances you'll fight Brythonians is almost nil, but not quite. It's good that it's so rare, cause I've got no advice to help you here.

The longbow is key when fighting the barbarians, but there is one small problem when fighting Brythonians: you'll never be able to out-draw them.

I don't care how much you train with a bow. I don't care how much natural talent you've got. The Brythonians will win, every time. They've trained since they can talk. They've got you out-ranged, out-drawn, and out-skilled.

Thank fuck they don't leave their miserable islands. They'd put me out of a job.

It shouldn't matter too much anyway. I don't take contracts against northmen unless I've no other choice. Normally there's some war between different kingdoms in the Heptarchy, or some shit-toothed noble rising in rebellion against their monarch. These contracts are the best, since normally you'll just be fighting peasant levies, who've only ever had to fight small groups of bandits on the road. They're not harmless, per se, but if you do your job properly you should be fine.

Otherwise you'll be fighting knights or armsmen. Out of the two of them, go for the knight. There's more glory, and more importantly, money to be had from killing a knight. They're normally easier to kill as well. You wouldn't think so, with how much knights prattle on about 'prowess' and 'honour', but it's that honour that makes them vulnerable.

Fight dirty. Use every trick you've got up your sleeve. Goad them, throw dirt in their eyes, tackle 'em to the floor and hope they drown in the mud. Use literally any means to kill them. Yep, I am biased, that's right. I fucking hate pompous knights thinking they're a better killer than me 'cause their armours shinier. Well they're not. I'm the best damn killer there is, you know how I know that?

Because the people that told me they were better are dead. And I'm still here.

'Course, that advice only applies to knights on foot. As much as I hate to admit it, mounted knights are still the most dangerous enemy to fight in melee combat on the field.

Armsmen are a bit trickier. They're good longbowmen, so that already makes them dangerous, but those billhooks are deadly. More so than you think at a glance.

Sure, they look like farming tools stuck to broom handles, but those farming tools are normally used for cutting through wheat, and they go through flesh just as easily.

Now I might not be the biggest fan of polearms, but if you can get your hands on a proper billhook, nab it. They've got good reach and are practically designed to hook knights off their horses and stab them in their armour's joints. Any weapon designed to kill a knight is good in my book. They tend to be castle-forged as well, which puts them a grade above the swords and axes most of us use.

If nothing else, you'll be able to sell it to someone else in the company for a nice profit.

If you see a lord, you might be tempted to take them in for a ransom.

Don't.

This also applies to any family of a lord you might nab on the battlefield.

Sure, you might be richer than you ever dreamed from the ransom money.

But it won't last.

At some point you'll run out of money again, and you'll be no different than any other in the company again. Save that there's now a target on your back.

And if anyone's desperate enough in the company, it'll be you taken captive next, and sold to the lord you extorted for his revenge.

Better just to kill them and be done with it. Trust me, highborns don't forget slights against 'em. You might forget. They won't. If they die without revenge, their children, their brothers, their second-cousin twice-removed will remember how you 'dishonoured' their family.

If you kill them, no-one 'll know it was you that did it in the heat of the battle.

So long as you remember to keep quiet about it.

I may seem resentful of my lowborn position a little, and you might feel that way too, but remember, it can always be tempered by the fact that I know I can kill anyone above my station with enough work, one way or another. For some arrogant little whelps, a duel. A knight on a battlefield, a longbow. A fearsome duelling opponent? A knife at night. All else fails, then a uniform found on an unsuspecting servant, a misplaced vial here, an unattended drink there... its amazing much they put faith in armour. It's also amazing how little armour does to protect you against your own protesting body.

There's no steel that'll stop your stomach from burning itself from the inside, or slow a quickening pulse.

No matter the method there's one thing that's constant:

You should walk away fine, they shouldn't.

Of course I have more tips and tricks to stay alive and keep ahead of your peers. But I'm not gonna tell you. Come on, I need to keep a few things for my own advantage. Sorry boys, but there ain't anything else I'll be telling you today.

So, that should suffice for your introduction to this life. If you think the company's too rough for ya then I'm sure the Band of the Wren or the Rose-Tinted Company 'll take you in, pompous cunts.

But if you're ready for a real soldier's life, for never ending days of drink and sex and blood?

Well, you've found your new home.

Ah, what am I missing?

Oh yeah, always sleep with your eyes open, and of course, murder's okay if they're a cunt.

Right, I'm off to go vomit in a hedge somewhere. If anyone sees Corbray kill him for me would you?