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Oscar the Wanderer

My name is Oscar, named after my father's father. I have taken up the name wanderer, because I desire to see the lands beyond by humble village.

I've been told that I am six feet tall, like my father, but I'm not as broad. I have a thinner build, more narrow across the chest. I've inherited my mother's fair skin, which burns easily in the sun, as well as her brown hair and green eyes.

I've been raised in part by my father's old friends. From them I learned how to cheat at dice, how to string a bow, and to keep my hair short.

I'm just a wanderer. I know how to hunt, and use a bow and blade, but if I were to become the next Ruler of Kings, then I would need to get to know the men and women I plan on ruling.

Wanderer Oscar

Advisor Description

The man followed me into the tavern. When I was enjoying my meal at a table alone, he sat down across from me. I noticed him staring, so I gave him a polite smile, but I was mostly interested in finishing my meal. I had been on the road for quite awhile, and was practically starving.

The older man was not put off in the slightest by my disinterest. "Good day," he said with a practiced smile. "Are you, perchance, Oscar the Wanderer?"

That got my attention. Most of the people in the past month who have come looking for me have wanted to give me a few new bruises. I eyed him warily, but he didn't look like anyone I recognized. Of course, he had a powerful physique and a prominent scar across his right cheek. He had clearly seen his share of fights. He could have been a ruffian paid a few gold to do someone else's dirty work, but he seemed to well dressed to be a common thug. "Who wants to know?" I asked, trying to keep my expression neutral.

"Derrick, Captain of the Kingfisher Mercenaries. I'm a friend of your father." I couldn't hide my surprise as he extended a gloved hand across to shake. I took it somewhat sheepishly due to my grease-stained fingers, but he didn't seem to mind getting his glove dirty.

"Well a friend of my father is a friend of mine," I replied. It was mostly true. I grew up around a lot of my father's friends, and every one of them has treated me well without fail. Many of my suspicions dissipated, but a thought nagged at me. "If you don't mind me asking though, how did you find me?"

"Honestly, I didn't know you were here until I saw you. You look a lot like your mother, you know."

I nodded. If I had a gold for every time I heard that…

"I wasn't sure though, so I stayed back for a bit, watching you. Once I sat down, though, I knew it was you. Your father gave me the same look when we first met. He's doesn't like to be interrupted while eating either." He laughed heartily, and I could feel some heat rising in my cheeks.

There was a lull in the conversation, where I think he expected me to ask more questions, maybe about my father. I had none, however. He never once visited me, never had any interest in knowing me. All he cares about is that I follow his vision and one day ascend to the throne of The Ruler of Kings. We'll see about the latter. It is hard to grow up hearing how you are meant for great things, and not reach for them. However, if I do, I'll do it through my own efforts, not his.

"It's fortunate I ran into you, actually," he chuckled. "I owe your father my life, and he told me I could repay it by helping you."

"Help me how?" I asked evenly.

"I'm the captain of a moderately successful band of mercenaries. While my men are decent enough folk, you won't get them to lift a finger without the promise of payment. I on the other hand, offer my services to you free of charge regarding whatever ambitions a young man such as yourself could have." He winked as he emphasized ambitions, and I knew then that he was definitely part of whatever my father had planned.

I was torn, and it must have shown in my face, because Derrick leapt on the opportunity to advertise his services.

"I hear you want to see the world. I've been around. I can tell you a fair deal about some of the places you might be visiting. Also consider that travel is safer in larger numbers, and if you're any good with a blade, you can make a bit of gold on the side. My men are smart enough to appreciate having another skilled blade on their side."

"I don't know about skilled," I confessed.

"You have the skill to work as a body guard, and skills can always be sharpened." he said, waving away my concern. "And should you be feeling particularly ambitious one of these days, I didn't become captain of the Kingfishers with my skill as a swordsman. I enjoy this position due to my skill at negotiating with clients and leading men and women in battle."

Ah, while his previous points were meant to entice me, his last two points were what he was really here for.
I wanted to tell him no. He was clearly part of my father's plans for me, and accepting his services could leave me liable to go along with them without realizing it. I got the sense that Derrick wasn't telling me everything, including what my father wanted him to do for me, but well… I knew one thing for sure. Derrick was quite persuasive. I thought about my month of painful bruises. It was a tempting opportunity to train with a professional swordsman. He was also right about there being safety in numbers. And information about the dangers and customs of the wider world would be invaluable, if he was as well traveled as he implied. I wanted to tell him no, but I found that I couldn't. I was silent for awhile, all while he sat across from me, wearing a patient smile. Finally, I spoke.

"So," I asked, feeling distinctly like I was stepping off a cliff, " can you help me sharpen my sword skills?"