Name: James York

Moniker: The Nubian

Title: Cut-Throat

Mercenary Company: Pride

Experience: 32/1000

Tier: Zero

Health: 50 (Army General Modifier +20)

Attack: 14 (Army General Modifier +5)

Weapon: Blood-Drinker

Armor: Rusted Curais

Traits: Berserk

Unused Rewards: Follower Camp

Perks ~

Attack +3, Health +3, Of the Forest, Sacking, Loyalty +3, Upgrade First Unit, Difficult Diplomacy, Harder Diplomacy Gains, Sticks, and Stones.

Mercenary Hoplite Squad.

Mercenary Band: Pride

Squad size: 100

Designation: Hastati - Frontline troop

Experience: 203/1000

Tier: One

Troop Loyalty: 100

Health: 30

Attack: 10

Weapon: Bronze Weapons (Assorted)

Armor: Light Steel Armor

Description +

I went over both my status and that of my Units when I ‘spawned’ into the world of Total War: Rome. I had a pretty decent boost to my attack with Blood-Drinker. I’d still need to see about getting another decent weapon to use as my main one. The knife was just too small of a blade to be practical. My Hoplites even received a large boost to their attack. The Bronze Weapons jumped them from a measly three to a nice fat ten. The assorted part was a little confusing, but when the actual unit spawned into existence, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. It likely meant that they would have different weapons. I could live with that.

The health didn’t increase with the improved armor, but it should still be pretty useful for them as a whole. I took a moment to figure out where the fuck I was. Like in the Tutorial I was in a little glade surrounded by trees. Unlike the Tutorial, one of the corners held what looked like a small wooden palisade. Said palisade also had multiple people moving around behind it. They were a little hard to make out, though the wooden towers spaced at odd intervals with archers in them were pretty fucking easy for me to see. More so when I realized the fuckers were pointing their arrows at me, and the distant shouts that accompanied surprised people weren’t far behind.

Apparently, my men had ‘spawned’ at some point during my examination. Silvius, Sejanus, both were just behind me, and I realized why they were freaking out. I smacked the palm of my hand into my face and groaned. Lovely, just fucking perfect. I’m supposedly spawned outside of Londinium, a really piss-poor and barely founded version, but the Capital City of the Britons all the same.

“General, I still don’t understand why you moved us to the ass end of nowhere, away from the splendor of Rome, to find work with these savages.” I looked over, shocked, at Silvius and tried to remember when the fuck I’d EVER said something like that. Shaking my head, I realized it was the System setting the background and reasoning for my men. Sejanus was smiling that creepy fucking smile and had a pair of very brutal looking bronze axes hanging at his waist. The fact he was fiddling with one of the blades, continually cutting his finger on the sharpened edge was another point toward the ‘crazy’ factor for him.

When I realized Sejanus, who oddly had a bronze sword that reminded me of a gladius, wanted an answer I shrugged. “Think about it this way, Silvius, we can earn more here. Less competition from other mercs. You also get the chance to kill Barbarians and earn more coin.”

I heard him let out a small sigh, something he tried very hard to hide. He nodded all the same and started screaming for the men to form up. I looked over everyone's armor and weapons then. The Light Steel armor was just that. It offered the barest protection for vital areas while the rest of the armor was leather, shitty leather at that. I frowned a bit, mostly because I realized just how cheap the System was with those rewards. At least nothing as horrible as a bronze bow showed up. That would have been a complete disaster and would have denied me multiple men that would have gotten stuck with the uselessly heavy weapons. The fact my Hoplites were melee was probably the only reason why they didn’t get something like that. I’d have to be very careful in the future if I ever obtained ranged units. The shields my men bore appeared to have been affected by the light steel purchase as well. They were rimmed in light steel, but the majority of their make was simple wood.

Groaning a bit, wishing I’d just gone all out on one focus rather than trying to be well rounded, I chalked it up as a learning experience. “Patrol,” whispered Sejanus. I jumped, terrified by how fucking close the man was. I regretted the action a moment later when the kid smiled at me. That smile said he’d found something amusing and that he’d make it happen again. I really hope he dies in a battle soon. The kid was just way to fucking creepy.

The patrol in question was riding toward us. A quick estimate had me assuming they were around thirty riders. “Silvius, maybe we should have the men ready their shields…” I said, a bit nervous at the speed the riders in question were moving.

“If that is your command, they are a welcoming party, however. If they wished to engage, they would have sent infantry as well.” I didn’t like it, but I really would have to rely on him for a time while I figured out the ‘rules’ of this game and the changes the System made.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

A moment later the patrol came to a screeching halt about fifty yards from us, and a lone rider detached himself from the group, trotting closer. It was a young man, about the same age as Sejanus. Unlike Sejanus, this lad looked both terrified and curious. He wore padded cloth and leather while holding what looked like a massive standard in one hand. I narrowed my eyes, confused about this entire affair when he called out to us. “Hail! You are within Briton lands under the rule of our glorious King Randolfinius. Why have you come?”

That...didn’t sound right at all. I didn’t really remember the leader of the Briton Factions name, I always killed him off for someone else, but that sure as hell was not the name. Taking a moment to look at the Riders I wondered exactly what was up with that. The Brits in the game used Chariots, not single rider cavalry. I mean, sure, realistically it was prudent to use them when dispatching messages and shit here, but it still felt weird. I expected more things like the game, not something that could be mistaken for a living world. Whatever, moving on. I should probably answer the kid before he freaks and we have to fight our way out. I’d rather not lose any of my little NPCs yet.

“We’re a Mercenary Band called Pride. I’ve led my men here to look for work and help your King expand.” I debated on having Silvius speak first, but the sneer the man was throwing out was a little too pronounced. I doubted I’d learn much about proper greetings from him when dealing with factions outside the norm. I had to hold off a morbid chuckle with that. People were really racist around this time, or would that be nationalist? I think it had less to do with the color of the skin and more to do with their homeland. As long as the man listened to me, then it didn’t matter. I doubted I’d have to deal with as much persecution myself, but who knows?

The man said something, and I missed it. He repeated himself a moment later though, saving me from having to ask what the hell he’d said. “Welcome then. If you will come with me, I will take you to meet the King. Your men will have to stay here.”

Yeah, that kind of sucked. “Allow me two of my men?” Shit, I should have made that a statement or just brought them. I’d made it a question instead. Appearing weak in this time was probably a piss poor idea. The young man just nodded though, and I had Sejanus, my psychotic little killer, and one of the other men come with me toward their patrol after having Silvius take command. Sejanus, Tralius, and myself were given horses to ride for the time being, and we made our way into the ‘City.’

It was more like a massive town than a city. Dirt roads made muddy by the weather with thatched buildings and a wooden palisade. A few towards lining the palisade were their only real defense. The ‘castle’ was the single stone building. It also seemed to act as a barracks of sorts though I saw a clear field off to the side and down a hill with several men training. Mustering Field?

The ‘castle’ wasn’t all that large, two stories at the most. It was fairly long with an outer stone wall that served as a courtyard and what seemed like the barracks for their ‘elite’ troops. We were led through a small hallway decorated with random bits of finery, animal hide, art and all sorts of things that looked as if they were designed to show off wealth and prosperity more than actual functionality. Your basic royalty in that sense I suppose. Always had to be the best. At the end of the tunnel, we were greeted with a large single room with multiple people dressed in finer clothing than anyone else I’d seen on our way here. A few guards that seemed to be better armed and at the end of the room sat three thrones. The largest throne held a fat man with a crown, hello Randy, the slightly smaller one held a comely woman with a grown and a heavy looking dress. The third one, placed a step lower and far smaller held a child that looked to be about eight or nine and was fidgeting with some clothing in his hand. A Prince? Meh, they didn’t really matter regardless. In the end, they were a means to an end, whether they were the people I helped toward that end was up in the air.

“Announcing Pride Mercenary...The Nubian.” I snickered at his pause. He had really hated me telling him that that was my name. It wasn’t, but it most likely would become that while I was in this version of the games.

I swaggered into the room then, Sejanus and Tralius flanking me. I had to make up for my idiotic mistake before, more so in front of my personal psycho. The notion he might think me weak and kill me in my sleep was a genuine fear. So, I swaggered my newly sexified ass right into that room like I owned it. I caught the King eyeing me. He looked a little pissed. The fact his Queen looked like she was about to wolf whistle might have been the cause. I might even have felt proud of that, but her eyes were on Sejanus. You know what? He can have her. Now that I have a closer look she looks about the age of my fuckin grandmother. Shuddering at the mere notion of that, I forced all of my attention onto the King.

He wasn’t really fat, but he was a rotund fellow. He had a heavy black beard laced with white and a balding head underneath the shoddy golden crown he wore. Muddy brown eyes gazed back at me while he tapped a finger, I noticed each finger had heavy rings on them, against the arm-rest of his throne. When he spoke, it was with a slightly high pitched and nasally voice. “Why have you come to Our lands and with such a show of force? Furthermore, We have heard no reports of your troop further afield. Do you come for nefarious purposes?”

I fought the urge to facepalm when I heard the royal ‘We’ crap come out of that big bugger. Alright, obviously this pompous windbag is going to be annoying to deal with. I’m too weak to do anything about it at the moment though. Realistically at least. In the game, each faction started with one or two elite unit types while the rest were fillers. The Brits were notorious for not having anything even remotely considered range in the first installment as well. Just slingers. This faction focused more on infantry and the chariots for flanking. When the time came, and I had enough men I’d be able to tell this douche to stuff it. Best play the role for now though.

“We have newly arrived on the isle. We traveled mostly through the forest and only ever met a caravan or two along the way. This would likely be why your esteemed highness never received word. I can assure you that my men and I do not have nefarious agendas but instead would like to offer you our services as men for hire. I will understand if one as mighty as you has no need for men such as us, but it would be our honor to fight under your command.”

The king regarded me steadily for a time, silent, then the fugly ass old biddy leaned over and whispered into his ear, never taking her eyes off of Sejanus. The king frowned, then nodded once before rising, his wife following behind him.

“Our Queen has convinced me of your possible uses, Nubian, as well as the uses of your men. We can speak more of that at a later date, for now. We have an objective for you, to prove your sincerity toward Us. We desire you to retake our surrounding Holdings in Our name, bring them back into the fold. Do this, and We will be assured of your sincerity, and We shall take you into Our armed forces. Speak with Our General, Hark. He will give you all the information you need.”

He left with his wife, son, and a host of guards shortly after. My men and I were the only ones who didn’t bow. The pompous dick didn’t deserve it, and we weren’t in his actual employ yet. I hated the fact he’d managed to ensure we would work for free as well, at least for now. That meant I’d need to get resources through less savory means. I turned toward the General in question, a short and stout man wearing hardened animal hides with a thick metal breastplate littered with dents. The man had been through some hell from the looks of it as well. His bald head, multiple scars, and thousand yard stare told me he’d be a scary fucker. It had the little primal urge in the back of my mind going apeshit, screaming “run you, moron! He's going to eat your heart!”

Doing my best to hide the shudder while continuing my little swagger, that’s right, watch that booty jiggle you dressed up dick-bags, I walked toward him. Time to find out what fresh hell they had in store for me. It turns out. The General was a man of few words. With a voice hoarse from years of screaming orders.

“Go Northwest, the town of Deva. Take it from the smattering of forces that hold sway over the good folk. Come back when you do.”