Centuria is a roleplaying game which takes place in the fantasy world of Aladron across three different ages: the Age of Steel, the Age of Knowledge and the Age of Information. Follow posts about campaigns, world design and events or check out the downloads page for rule books and other material!
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Kragor the Merc: Epilogue
From what I pieced together it wasn't a flawless victory. GERO had been looking for something out there - some elvish ruin or artifact or whatever. And in the end they got it. But on the other side they took a heavy punch too; our little party must have put them back a few weeks and a girl I know - she's the silent type - apparently cashed in big on assassinating the heads of the corporation. So Dormicas is pretty much back the way it used to be - with bad jobs from many corps and everyone fighting over scraps and all that. But its the way I prefer it to be. I guess GERO still made a shitload of money on their grab but hey, its not like I would have gotten it anyway; or the people of Dormicas for that matter. It would still just have lined the pockets of some Union bigshot 2'000 kilometers away. So who the fuck cares?
It would be the end of Freelance, at least as we knew it. Juron had seen something dark in himself those last days at GERO and apparently wanted to continue on his own journey. Can't say I ever really liked the man, but I wish him luck none the less. The Falcons went away of course and for the rest of us sticking around and throw a welcome-home party to the Demon's Head just didn't suit any of us. So we talked about just selling the place and move somewhere else, set up a new shop and start over. At least for a while. The big city will always have its lure. But long story short, that's how I ended up in this bar in this little town. You better believe it.
And if you ask me to repeat anything of what I just said ever again I'll nail your head to the fucking ceiling. Ed's the guy for repetitive blather. Me; I prefer the silence.
Kragor took a good look around him before he continued. He wanted to be -absolutely- sure no one was following him when he reached the locker.
A few moments later he found himself in front of it - a door exactly like the 20'000 others in the storage facility, and that was just one of the floors. He took out his digital keycard and entered the 10 digit code. He opened it, left a small parcel and then closed it again.
A minute later he was gone.
The door to the small shop opened and shut quickly. Keria finished her meal and went to deal with the customer.
"Kragor? What are you doing here?"
"So the shit has really hit the fan?" she gave him a disapproving look.
"No, it hasn't. I'm just tired of the city for a while."
"Never thought I hear -you- say that."
"Goodbye Keria. And good luck."
The half-orc woman almost spilled her drink.
"Holy shit, is that you Kragor?"
"You don't recognize my pretty face?"
"Haven't seen your pretty face since you were 12. You need money or something?"
She gave him a scrutinizing look. For once he didn't put up his façade.
"By all the cursed devils... you're just here to see me?"
"No, but well... you know," she switched to her sarcastic tone, "if the kids would see you they'd have nightmares for years."
"I won't be staying long."
"You know I didn't mean..."
"Don't worry. But I'll be heading out for a while. But I'll be back."
"I've never trusted you when you'd said things like that," she grinned at him but he could also see a slight mist to her eyes.
"I got 30 grand put away in a locker in downtown - I'll be back alright."
"Finally struck some gold, eh?"
"Eh, yeah, you could say that," said Kragor, for the first time feeling a bit uncomfortable about where the conversation was going. "Even got some extra."
He handed her a small credstick.
"I don't want your money Kragor."
"Its not for you - its for the kids."
After a moment's hesitation she nodded and took the stick.
Kragor stood before the unmarked grave.
"You knew it would end this way, Kronaug. One cannot be stupid and criminal for very long."
Though he knew it was true it didn't feel quite right as the last words to someone he'd known for so long.
"But you died for a good cause, I think. It could have been worse."
He turned and walked away.
The night air was cold and he was surrounded by trees. In the distance the dark water of Noldoa-Seni reflected the light of the stars. Between him and it lay an ugly little town; most lights out at this late hour but still a few chimneys poured dark smoke into the air and some moving lights could be seen reflecting off the buildings. Kragor didn't believe in happy endings and he knew that one day - probably not so far off - the town of Sodor would feel too small and the lure of Dormicas would draw him back. But right there, right then, he felt quite content.
"And once I put my shotgun to your face, Dwavor, I promise by the gods I'll be happy for a full day."
Whistling a tune, the scarred half-orc started walking towards the town, the auto-shotgun resting on his shoulder.
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