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Jacob Merweather

Jacob Merweather

Despite the lateness of their night, both Ronald and JC were up before the sun as was their routine. On a normal day Ronald would start on a breakfast of coffee, bacon, eggs, and bread while JC set up the forge and set up their equipment today, today was not a normal day though as Ronald had declared a day of rest. It was a well deserved rest day as they both had been burning the candle at both ends in order to fulfill their order for The White Company and for JC to finish his final test. JC dreaded days off though because of the sheer boredom. He was so used to working and had no friends in town because of it so days off usually consisted of him tinkering the forge with his own projects, something that Ronald has expressly forbidden for this off day.

An hour after sunrise, and two hours of weapons training in the yard later, a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The man stood and watched as JC and Ronald sparred round after round in the yard. What he saw was two giant men seemingly dancing with steel in the yard. Both men completely oblivious to everything around them but somehow always aware of their surroundings, the random objects in the yard, the others position, and the walls that kept them in. To the average man they would look like they were evenly matched as they seemed to each take turns scoring hits but this man was no average man. He was Jacob Merweather, one of only 8 Sergeants in the King’s elite White Company. What Jacob saw was a master and his apprentice sparring, except the apprentice was winning.

Cough Cough

The dust had been stirred up by a kick from JC designed to distract and throw dirt into the air. The mutual combatants suddenly stopping at the noise that seemed out of place in their dance of steel. While the apprentice seemed surprised that someone was there the master did not, still having an edge over his apprentice in some things.

“Jacob! About time! I didn’t know you were such a late riser these days. A lot seems to have changed” laughed Ronald as he slapped Jacob across the back.

“I didn’t want to disturb you from your beauty sleep Ronald. You definitely need it” replied Jacob evenly.

“Still as sharp as the day I met you huh. This is my apprentice JC. Or should I say soon to be former apprentice. He just completed his final project two days ago” replied Ronald.

“If he’s anything like his master he will be one hell of a smith. Maybe we will have to switch to him as our primary smith”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“He made half the swords for the order so why don’t you step inside and see. You may be convinced that’s the right thing to do.”

Ronald and Jacob went inside to inspect the swords leaving JC standing in the yard. He hadn’t said a word because he could not stop staring at Jacob’s face. There was a massive scar running straight down the right side of his face somehow skipping over his eye. It was horrifying and JC couldn’t imagine how someone survived from a wound such as that. JC decided to clean up the yard and himself before joining the two in the forge. Besides his scar Jacob was an unremarkable man. He stood at average height and his clothes hid his muscle well. He had the standard brown hair, cut short as a soldier would for convenience, and brown eyes as most people in the Kingdom. The only other thing that stuck out besides his scar was his easy confidence. Anyone who met him would realize that he was a man who could handle himself, and a couple others too if need be.

A short time later a refreshed and slightly damp JC arrived in the forge. He could hear the two men talking as he entered the room.

“… would tear this country apart.”

“I’m afraid there is nothing to be done. We’ve known Tristen has wanted the throne for years and it appears he’s made some allies. Hence, our “expedition” to Katar.”

The talking suddenly stopped as JC appeared in the room.

“JC! We were just talking about you and I fear I have some bad news” rumbled Ronald

“Uh what is it master?” JC said concerned.

“I’m afraid you have two options and neither is great. The first is that I pronounce you a smith and then you get drafted into the Baron’s army in about a month getting a shit posting and shit gear. Or I pronounce you a smith and you voluntarily join the Baron’s army NOW and get to use your own equipment and get put with some competent troops.”

“I don’t understand master. Whats happening? We are at peace with everyone right now”

“JC, If I may” asked Jacob.

A nod from JC and Jacob continued, “Its not known yet but Tristen Trent Duke of Applo has made a deal with the Kingdom of Katar for their support in him taking the throne of Trent. He plans to strike next month when spring fully hits. Our King is aware and will put out the call for a draft shortly. This isn’t publicly known yet but with your master being an old friend I thought I would pass it on”

Silence reigned over the forge, without even the fire lit you could hear the wind slowly whistling through the rafter.

JC, not one to delay the inevitable made his decision right then and there.

“Well, I guess I’ll join the Baron as soon as I’m a full smith then. Best to give myself the best odds.”

For the rest of the day the three spoke of the future and what was to come. All three getting deep into the bottle as they prepared JC for his future. JC would leave for the Barony capital in the morning it was decided, there was no used in putting it off.

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