His horse let out a horrible cry as it fell over, blood gushing out of its neck from the large slash. Staniel was nearly crushed under the beast, wiggling his way out and bringing out his sword for the next blow. He saw a brawny soldier bring up his greatsword ready to crash on top of Staniel. Staniel's arm was too weak from slicing, he couldn't bring it to block fast enough. This was the end.

A crossbow bolt suddenly impacted in the soldier's mouth, tearing it open as he gurgled a cry and quickly keeled over. Staniel looked around the battle before him. Men were crying out as they died or lay dying, horses neighing desperately before finally giving out on the floor. Blood and excrement was soaked through the colored coats and aketons of soldiers around him. He saw the familiar coat of arms of King Harlaus' men slowly drawing behind him, away from the battle.

"Harlaus?" Staniel lifted his sword and blocked an incoming blow, kicking the attacker back and stabbing him. Behind the wall of horses and men, he saw Harlaus' signature armor slowly become more unnoticeable. "Harlaus, where are you going?! Harlaus, Don't leave me here!"

King Harlaus rode back away from the battle with his guard of knights. Count Montewar soon rode by, covered in blood and cuts. "My lord, the battle is lost. There's no more reason to stay for the slaughter," he explained. "The others lords are already pulling back now."

King Harlaus looked upon the battle. The Khergits were gaining more momentum. "Is everyone accounted for then?"

"All but Count Staniel's warband, your majesty," Count Montewar urged him to leave. "He is of lesser birth, you know this already."

"We shouldn't leave him behind, he's done more than—"

"My lord, he is nothing but a scheming mercenary!" He argues. "He hardly has any more importance than manpower, we can get more men from a more useful noble!"

King Harlaus looked back at the fight, before an arrow whizzed by his horse. Followed by other arrows. "I better not regret this decision, Montewar. I quite frankly have no more patience for the scheming of you and the other lords," King Harlaus turned, rising away. "Tell our men to retreat, this battle is lost."

Staniel screamed for help as the Khergits began to surround him. His men desperately tried to circle for defense, as the Khergits started to slay his men to pieces. Staniel looked in awe as he saw the rest of the Swadian warband leave. His men slowly swallowed into the gaping mouth of the Khergit savers and spears, as he desperately fought them off.

"Harlaus you son of a bitch! Harlaus!"

He was cut off as the crowd surrounded him closer. "Harlaus!"

Traditional music filled up the space around the tavern. A slow night at the tables called for a calm and gentle tone, not upsetting the little amount of people hanging about the bar. The barmaid collected empty mugs and urged a tip or two from the drinking patrons.

She came up to a man who sat in the corner of the room, snoring softly into his arms surrounded by empty mugs. The barmaid frowned and shrugged him harshly. "Wake up you drunkard!"

"Stop shaking me woman," the man grumbled, shrugging her off, "there's a few more denars if you let me sleep alone."

"And where's the denars you already owe from the food and drinks?" She questioned.

"I'll pay them once I get some denars," The man grinned at her, "I just need to get some sleep."

The barmaid looked over to the barkeep. Barkeep nodded without them saying a word and motioned his security to the table.

"Ugh, why couldn't you just left me alone," the man roused up, stumbled to his feet and hiccuped. The bouncer was larger than him, he thought.

Much larger. This wasn't going to be a fair fight

"I've had my fair of fighting, and I have to tell you," he brought up his finger and twistedly poked the bouncer in the chest. "I've taken out guys a lot bigger than you."

He doesn't remember much after that, other than being thrown out of the bar coughing up his drinks for that night, before being hit by his sword still stuck in its sheath. "Ow, that hurt! Terrible customer service. Everyone will know that Staniel of the kingdom of Swadia will—"

"Away with you vile beggar, before we get the guard and hang you! Should've known that some Swadian pig would think everything is free." The barmaid yelled, before the door was closed.

Staniel stood up and stumbled straight, before laughing at the door. "Oh yeah? Well I'm not even Swadian! Choke on that you… you miserable witch."

Staniel mood shifted as he looked down at his sword. Smooth leather, bonded by metal bindings bearing his former house. He picked it up and settled it back on his hip, walking away from the tavern before turning to an alley. He vomited whatever left was in his gut into a pile of garbage. Staniel swiped his mouth from leftovers on his beard, then he heard laughing.

"Well well well," he heard a rough voice say. "Seems like we got someones who's a little lost."

"Please, let me go. I have nothing to offer," he heard another voice say. The person was scared, obviously not used to threats. Staniel recovered himself and ventured into the alley, going into another corner that showed two ruffians and a trapped townsman.

"That's a crock of shite, them clothes tell me and my mate that you're probably carrying a heavy purse," he saw the two thieves laugh. "We'll help ease the weight."

"No, it's all I have to pay for my business. I'll be ruined!"

"Tough luck, hand it over!" The thief pulled out a dagger from his cloak, holding it close to the townsman. The other looked around and tapped his partners shoulder to alert him of Staniels presence.

"Hello gentlemen, fine night for a mugging isn't it?" Staniel grinned, motioning to the clear sky.

"Piss off, unless you want some steel in ya guts." The thief threatened. The other one brought out a short sword.

"Eh, I'm pretty full from ale and wine. You Vaegir type have pretty decent drinks." Staniel suppressed a burp from said drinks. "Now then, let that man go freely and you won't need to pick up your teeth from the ground."

"That so? Well, me and my mate would like to see you try!"

The man with the short sword lunged at him. Staniel quickly unsheathed his sword and parried him, bashing his hilt into the thief's teeth. The thief fell over grasping a bloodied mouth as little cluttering was heard from fallen teeth. His partner growled and attacked Staniel with a lunge.

Staniel quickly shifted to his left and brought a knee to his stomach. The thief toppled over and clutched his abdomen closely before Staniel brought his boot to his face, knocking out a not-so-pearly tooth. He grabbed the thief's coarse hair and lifted it to his face. "It could've been easier, now leave while I'm in a good mood."

He threw him back to the floor, the two thief's scrambling to their feet with bloody mouths and running off. Staniel smiles victoriously as he began to dry heave.

"Ah, I…" the saved man looked with confusion as he saw him expel nothing. "Thank you for help, you just saved my whole expenditure!"

"It, it was no problem, uh..."

"Grindel."

"Grindel, yes." Staniel braced himself on his knees. "You… don't happen to have a room open?"

"Uh, yes! I do indeed have a room in my home, you can stay there and recover from your sickness."

"Good, I thank—HUUUURGGEHH!"

Grindel grimaced. He stepped over the mess and threw Staniel's arm over his shoulder. "I'll help you there."

Staniel chuckled. "Yes, please do."

Grindel's house was cozy. Well, anything was cozy to Staniel at the moment. He woke up with the sun already casting its rays into the window. Staniel's head throbbed violently, maybe if he had another drink it'll subside.

He shifted himself off the straw bed and stood up, wobbling himself over to the living room where he saw Grindel carving an apple.

"Ah, you're awake! Finally." Grindel said, putting his things down. "Come, sit here and get something to eat."

Staniel sat down and looked curiously at the man, watching him pour out a soup from a burning cauldron. He had to admit, it smelled pretty damn good. Grindel put the bowl in front of him. "Ah, thank you."

"Of course, you saved me last night! It's the least I can do." Grindel smiled.

"Ah yes well, once I'm finished with your food I'll be on my way."

"About that, after what I saw last night I simply must ask," Grindel continued. "You were once a soldier, yes? No way a simple villager can wield a blade so expertly."

"Some time ago, yes."

"And are you tied down to any lords or kings at the moment?"

"No," Staniel was getting suspicious. "What's with the questions?"

"I'm just seeing your availability," Grindel got up and brought out a small chest full of chattering Denars. He placed them on the table. "I'll pay handsomely for your services in this little venture I'm partaking. 5000 denars upfront, another 2500 when the job is done."

"And what kind of job is that?"

"Security is all. You'll be with me and a crew of others to find new opportunities outside of Calradia."

"Where do you plan to go? There isn't much other land known."

"Oh, but there is," Grindel got up and motioned Staniel to follow him. "Come here."

Staniel followed him to the attic of his home. They walked down the stairs, lit by the sun from the outside. There, in the center of the attic, was a full set of strange looking red armor, accompanied by thin swords and a taunting mask. It was made up of some strange material Staniel hadn't seen in Calradia before.

"What is this, some type of armor?"

"Precisely, it is armor belonging to a people many miles from here."

Staniel walked around the strange set of armor and picked up the sword it had. It was extremely light, easy to handle. He took a practice slice through the air and it whizzed like it was cutting the air in half. Dangerously sharp, he thought. This was designed by a master craftsman. "I see, you're interested in how they made the blades so… unique."

"Imagine, selling a sword that can match the lightness and speed of this blade, while also carrying the strength of a Great Sword. It'll mean money in these empty pockets."

"That's great and all but," he put the sword down. "How do you know where this place is? I've never seen armor or weaponry like this all over Calradia and back."

Grindel grinned madly. "That's the exciting part. This little adventure we'll have to find the land."

He went off to a corner and dug through some things before finally bringing out a scroll. "In Khergit lore, there exists a few lands east of the Vaegirs and the Khanate, as some Noyans of the Khergits come from. There's the land of beyond that, that only the oldest and experienced Steppe nomad knows. This armor is from that land, or rather, that isle across this continent of ours."

Staniel looked a little incredulous at Grindel, checking out the Khergit script of the scroll. "And what do they call this isle?"

"Wakoku. It's the land of the rising sun, as its neighbors call it. The things they know and could forever change how Calradia does trade and war. We can open new possibilities—"

"And how will we even get there, hm?"

"Ah, there are old Khergit trade routes that lead to the sea far from here, and a river connecting to the sea on the very borders of the mountains east of the Vaegirs and Khanate. I've already hired a crew of Nord seamen and a few mercenaries from here and there. I just needed a man who knows how to deal with Nobility and such."

"So your first impression of me, when I was in a drunken stupor and vomiting all about, was that I was good with nobility?"

"Of course," he smiled knowingly. "Who else could have risen through King Harlaus' ranks so easily, Count Staniel?"

Staniel grimaced at the name. "So, you know who I was."

"Yes, I do. It's why I was happy to see that you saved me. I've been tracking you for some time. After what I heard about the battle—

"Don't bring it up old man, if you want me to lead your little mercenary crew while you hassle… whoever these people are then fine." Staniel shoved the scroll into Grindels chest. "I think it's about time I left Calradia anyways."

Grindel smiled weakly now, watching Staniel leave the attic towards the room he stayed. He grabbed the scroll and held it close, talking to himself. "Trust me Staniel, you'll not regret this. Once we sail, we'll all be what we deserved to be."

A/N: Welcome to my story! I hope you enjoyed this prologue for what's to come! Recently been on a Mount&Blade binge and felt inspired to write a story based off the Samurai armor easter egg in the base game and the massive Gekokujō mod for the game which lets you play in Feudal Japan. Of course it's not actually Japan, but like the factions in M&B, based off the kingdoms and countries of the time. And if you're knowledgeable, the Mongols invaded Japan around 1270 AD, just a little bit before the timeline for M&B, 1250 AD. And since the Khanates are basically just the Mongolian Empire… I have an excuse for using them as a means to Wakoku (that's just an old name for Japan from like 200 AD, because I'm unoriginal)

Here's a little twist too. You can submit a character to be part of the mercenary group that was mentioned! It's not a formal SYOC, so there's no application or specific rules. I just ask you provide a basic profile of name, biography, personality, appearance, and choice of weapons through PM! The detailed the better!

Thank you for reading!