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Carrick the Mercenary

Carrick stands five and a half feet tall with dark, dirty brown hair the color of well trodden straw with dark, forest green eyes and a keen gaze. His complexion can best be called average, or being generous, plain if anyone is willing to be perfectly honest. His left leg is shorter than the right by a little amount and he compensates with a taller shoe on that foot to appear normal.

His eventual goal is to reign over the land, though he views alliances as useful and indeed the path to power, to work a way up a political ladder and stand alongside friends to battle foes, though his allegiance is earned, not bought, despite his mercenary mindset. Follow the gold is a mantra he lives by, though giving him gold is a good way to get him to listen, to a point.


Though he wants to become king, he is patient and always looking for a chance to make money and wield a blade for money, though he has a code of honor and he lives by it. Do no harm to women or children unless they strike first. Men on the other hand are fair targets.

Though he is easy to get along with, he is quick to anger and isn't easily mocked, indeed being mocked leads him to anger. Anger leads to lashing out.

Mercenary Carrick

Advisor Description

Dusk brought the drunks to the tavern as Carrick stood at a table, watching several runkards arguing over a gold coin, was it really gold, or was it merely a gold covered rock, or something more obscure, or....

Carrick turned away to look around the rest of the tavern and felt eyes on him, his skin prickling as he looked around, meeting a set of dark blue eyes that stared out from under a head of dark red hair, and pale skin. . Hands were folded neatlyon the table and an empty mug of ale sat on the table with an empty plate. Next to it.

The eyes raked over Carrick quickly then down to the ale in his hands, as he lifted it and drank, looking over the rim of the wooden mug to the woman, he could tell by her clothing and posture she was a captain, though of what he had no idea.

"So" she said, a rich, if quiet voice and he set the ale down, sitting across from her with a look of surprise. "So?" he asked, "Thou has a name?" he asked as she tapped a finger there, the finger, he noted was bereft of a ring or other jewelry.

"Gwendolyn" she said as Carrick smiled. "Pretty name" he said staring into his ale, flustered by the fact she was sat across from him as Gwendolyn laughed. "Thou has no need to be nervous" she said as Carrick finally met her eyes, green with hazel and gold flecks he noted.

Those eyes bored into him as he took another drink of ale and looked from her around the tavern. "I am a trapper and a mercenary" he offered quietly, as Gwendolyn smiled. Encouragingly at him. "THou hast a good profession. There's gold in bloodshed and fighting"" she said "I, a captain know this better than most. I command a few men who follow my orders without question" she said as Carrick choked on his ale for a few moments as she was around the table watching him with.... An expression he couldn't quite figure out. Amusement flickered in her eyes, though it was replaced by concern.

"If I may" Carrick offered feebly, "If I may.... I am not entirely sure what to do to achieve my goal of being king of these lands" he said as Gwendolyn looked at him with catlike curiosity. "Thou needst help" she said as he got up and nodded, surpised by the look on her face as she looked attractive in the dark light. Admittedly that was probably the ale talking, but he had dreams of castles, of raising armies, and of....

In a moment of pure lunacy he had leaned in and kissed her cheek with a mumbled promise of loyalty, the stining slap he recieved was followed up by an offer of help, as Carrick took the ofer, though it was followed up by an embrace from Gwendolyn and an offer of.... Something close to loyalty and advising him on his goals and yet.... Somehow he couldn't shake off the feeling somehow, she was laughing at him…

Her next move only added to his confusion as she kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around him, a good two inches taller and muscular, Gwendolyn almost seemed to be protecting him… at least that was the idea Carrick got for a moment before her grip toghtened on him and he felt the heat of her gaze on him.

Chemistry was definitely there.... Though the next morning Carrick didn't remember much of the previous night, but he remembered Gwendolyn, the smell of her hair, the look in her eyes and promise of loyalty and advising him.

Carrick the Mercenary Post Play & MMORPG RPG Text

Message to Advisor

The quill scratched across the parchment, spelling out words in smudges and folds of ink and smudges of written language, spelling out a letter.

Dear Gwendolyn

Thou hast helped me and I humbly thank tee, thou listened to me and thou has taken on the liberty of advising and protecting me, and thou hast....
The parchment shuffled on the desk, as Carrick carried on writing away with the nib of the quill dipping in ink.

Thou hast provided me with help and thou hast shown me kindness, and protection and loyalty. I want to repay thee in kind loyalty and protection. You intrigue me, dearest Gwendolyn. Thou has my interest in heart, and thou…

The next few words were lost in ablot of ink.

Thou hast my loyalty and my soul on string.