The following was found in the diary of DGaming Legendary warrior, Barric Petit.
Barric Petit - adventurer, just, organizer, quick
Arthur Payne - inspiring, left-handed, merchant, patient
Ronald Brayton - aggressive, brave, raider, tall
Philip Brunswick - defensive, merchant, shy, strong
Florent Petit - foolish, giant, organizer, steadfast
30th October, 1203 -
The day started like any other: I woke up, ate a delicious roasted wild boar the King killed on yesterday’s hunt and went on to train with my unit. But then halfway through our “Kill or be killed” exercise, a high-pitched voice began to echo through the practice ground.
I turned to see Dorian, the official King’s messenger, running in his purple robe and screaming “SIR BARRRIIIIIIIIIIIC PETITTTT, SIR BARRRIIIC.” I raised my hand and approached him. He whispered in my ear that the King needs me ASAP. But he refused to say why.
I told my soldiers to continue practicing and proceeded to see the King. When I entered the King’s chambers he was sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse. I knew something terrible was happening because he only perspired like this in the extreme summer heat. It was autumn.
“Sir Barric,” he said, “Scotland has fallen...”
What great news I thought!
“... to bandits.”
What?! Bandits?! How?! When?! The King explained everything to me. Long story short, he said the bandits had been breeding like crazy in Inverness, and since no one ever paid any attention Inverness, they soon became an overwhelming force that just yesterday took control of Scotland.
I suggested we hit them hard and fast, but the King objected, saying that this problem can only be solved by killing their leader, the bandit king named Nevin the Knife. “And for that, we need a small group of the world’s best soldiers. I’ve already contacted France, Holy Roman Empire, Spain, Denmark, everyone.”
He placed a crumpled piece of paper firmly into my hand. It contained the names of the hitsquad he had assembled: Barric Petit (me), Ronald Bryton, Arthur Payne, Barden Rieux, Philip Brunswick, and my brother Florent Petit. They all arrived in London in just 3 days. These were all professionals, legends of the known world. We knew what was at stake and was ready to put politics aside and focus on the task.
Our first mission was to separate my brother Florent from his trebuchet; it took us a whole week to do that. Arthur Payne eventually did so by telling my brother an inspiring story of how Scotland is full of golden trebuchets. Thankfully, my brother was quite a fool and bought the story.
But it was good that Florent joined the list. He and I shared the same organizational skills, and together we planned the entire operation. I’m not going to lie; I felt butterflies in my stomach. After all, I carry an adventurous spirit. The epic warrior Philip kept mostly to himself, saying nothing, observing everything. And Ronald Bryton? He volunteered for this task because… well; you know the whole story with him, his family and the bandits. If you missed it, it's here.
We gathered our supplies and weapons and headed North, to Nottingham. We heard that Nevin the Knife was in Edinburgh, celebrating his victorious campaign in a tavern called “HODL”. Florent, the true gigantic warrior that he is, carried all of our stuff. We moved quickly across the country and arrived at Nottingham in just a few days. We wanted to sleep in comfort for a change, having spent days and nights in the forest, and so we paid for our stay.
The next day we woke up and headed straight to York without looking back. When we got there, a famous weapons & armor trader from Portugal was selling some of the best gear in the world. We decided to buy because we wanted to be prepared for our mission, but we had no gold, having spent in on our luxurious stay in Nottingham.
Luckily, Arthur and Philip persuaded us to give them all of our possessions and promised to return with the best possible gear in the world. They were gone for the entire day but eventually returned with not only the gear but also with tasty food and the finest robes that felt like they were woven by god. That’s when I realized that it’s always good to have soldiers with merchant traits by your side. We feasted, drank wine, sang songs.
When the morning came, I ordered my brother Florent to stay behind. I didn’t want that giant bastard to die there, and I was pretty certain that we’re going to die. He was reluctant, of course, but he eventually calmed down, and the 4 of us started our march towards Edinburgh. Ronald was our guide from this point forward, for he knew the bandits inside out. He also knew where this HODL tavern was.
We moved silently through the forest, avoiding cities and villages, but the bandits were literally everywhere; the entire country was crawling with them. We killed a bunch on our way to HODL, which was good because we needed a way to test our new gear. When we found the tavern, Ronald advised us to wait for the dawn because at that time most of the bandits will be drunk or asleep. We agreed to sleep for just a while because we haven’t slept in 3 days. And that’s when everything went south.
We were awakened at dawn to the sound of screams. I quickly turned around and noticed that everyone is doing the same, except for Ronald, who was missing. It turned out that Ronald’s hate for bandits was too large to quell. Instead of sleeping, he went on a rampage. He raided, pillaged and murdered every bandit on his path.
But the lack of sleep and exhaustion made him lose his focus, so he started burning down houses. And when he arrived at the HODL tavern, he tried to burn that too. But he took one wrong step, and walked straight into a booby trap set by Nevin. Ronald was captured.
Ronald was caught in a net hanging from a tree, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t get free. Exhausted, he eventually stopped, and began to pray to his god, but his prayers were interrupted by something most alarming. An odious scent hit his nose and put his senses on red alert. He looked down, and set eyes on the bandit king, Nevin the Knife.
Nevin was tall, bold, high on mushrooms, and covered in a mixture of blood and beer. We were watching this from a distance. I wanted to do something, to help Ronald, but Arthur urged us to be patient (damn Arthur and his patience)! But he was right; we would all die if we tried to save Ronald.
Nevin cut the rope suspending Ronald in the net, and made him crash to earth with a thump. He then pulled a knife that glinted in the rising sun, and just when he tried to slit Ronald’s throat, a giant rock flew in like a gift from the heavens, rolling and killing a bunch of bandits. Everyone looked to the east and saw Florent managing a golden trebuchet, firing rocks as the sun was rising. And that’s when I knew it was time to say, “CHAAAAAAAAAARGEEEEE” And boy did we charge! Rocks were blazing, arrows and axes flying, blood spraying, people screaming and yelling.
I was cutting and slashing, Brunswick was defending me and covering my rear, repelling everyone that rushed towards me. Behind us was Payne, throwing axes with his left hand faster than the ribault's fire arrows. We must have killed them by hundreds, Florent probably by thousands! And in all of this mess, Ronald escaped Nevin and ran towards Florent under the cover of flying rocks.
As we inch closer to Nevin, Payne threw an axe but missed. This made Nevin even angrier; he threw a skull at Payne and knocked him down immediately. My backup Brunswick was already exhausted, and it was clear that we might lose the battle. Ronald was in cover, and Florent ran out of rocks!
It was all on me. With all the strength I had left, I charged Nevin, and my quick legs kept dodging the skulls Nevin was throwing at me. When I was within a few feet of him, he threw poop in my eyes and partially blinded me. Blinded, tired and disoriented, I threw my sword in his direction and fell to the ground.
Silence set in. I pulled out some grass and with it, I cleared my eyes. That’s when I saw Nevin lying on the ground with my sword in his right eye. The bandits, scared, lost, and leaderless, started running away yelling “The king is dead”. And indeed; Nevin the Knife, the Bandit King, was dead. Scotland was saved.
We replenished and returned home as soon as we could. Except for Ronald. I haven’t heard from him in a while, but I think he’s still in Scotland hunting down the remaining bandits. This mission was secret. There were no parties, medals or praise once it was done. We save Scotland, and probably the World, but no one knows it. Apart from you.
This story is not just mine. It’s the story of noble heroes that were ready to put all their differences aside and sacrifice their lives for others. They are Arthur Payne, Ronald Bryton, Philip Brunswick, Florent Petit, and me, Barric Petit, the man who took down Nevin the Knife. Honor us and never forget us!