It's been a surreal week. Why I say that is very simple: In one week, three prominent names passed away. The first to go was R.C Sproul. Then Kim Jong-hyun was next. Lastly, it was Bernard Law's turn.
Why I say this is very simple: I'm already starting to write a new chapter of A Requiem From Winter Past and said chapter actually involves a philosophical conversation surrounding homines (i.e. men in Latin speak) and deorum (i.e. gods in Latin speak). And since it involves the relationship between humanism and theism, it means the passing of three totally different individuals now carries a sense of surreality. I may need some time to further process what needs to be processed. At the same time, I think I need to rephrase the word "cardinal" into something else due to Bernard Law's impact on the world (I'm referring to this one).
Note: I'm not interested in starting a fight between Rome and the rest of the world. I'm more than happy to respect Roman Catholics from Singapore and beyond since I'm not stupid enough to assume every graduate from CHIJ goes by the name Elaine Jasmine Heng. In other words, I'm not about to assume every Roman Catholic goes by the name of... okay, never mind that.
Add note: I don't want to elaborate who is Elaine Jasmine Heng. I'll just let Google carry the black wok for me.
What this post is all about
Basically, I think I need to create a lore book. Well, sorta anyway. After all, I don't expect myself to explain every single part of the world while telling a story. In my previous (and now defunct) blogs That Random Blade and This Known World, I did something like that. For some reason, I couldn't retrieve my password. Hence, I needed to create a new Google account. And that includes starting everything from ground zero. Plenty of stuff and ideas... well, you get the drift. In my childhood and teenage years, no one was able to set me right since no one knew what's wrong with me. Not even myself. Near twenty years of being error prone means being unable to live like a normal person today. And it doesn't help that no one seems to know my struggles except for myself at the moment.
Since I'm no different from Vincent van Gogh while he was still alive, I might as well make the most out of what I know I can do. Opinions be damned, this is my life and not that of others. Margaret Weis once said this about Raistlin Majere:
"People can identify with Raistlin. We can relate to feelings that nobody loves us, to the struggle for recognition and acceptance. I really understood Raistlin right off the bat."
"People can identify with Raistlin. We can relate to feelings that nobody loves us, to the struggle for recognition and acceptance. I really understood Raistlin right off the bat."
Lore focus: Rangers
Origin:
Unlike those sellswords we are so familiar with, rangers have a longer history. Much longer given the fact that mercenaries only started existing after the Age of Renown reached its end. A noble profession for those not so noble, being one was the only way which a halfborne could prove himself as somewhat valuable.
Unlike the current society, the smallborne was never something as simple as being a commoner. Rather, anyone not of elven or dwarven blood would be regarded as one. The Homm'Eot (that is, the dwarves) enslaved them, the Homm'Nua (that is, the elves) looked down on them despite freedom given at no price at all. A halfborne is one of smallborne lineage mingled with either dwarven or elven blood. The Homm'Eot would always work the smallborne men while bedding the finest of their wives and daughters. As for the Homm'Nua, there would always be willful daughters eloping with unworthy lovers or an errant son taking an unworthy maiden as a paramour. The challenge for both races was apparent: To take a life without any cause is murder, to do so the same against an infant is murder twice as worse. The punishment for the former is death by decapitation. The penalty for the latter would be that of a traitor where descendants must bear the sins of the transgressor unless pardoned by whoever ruling over them.
Back then, the Age of Renown was never without its own conflicts. The orcs were given their share of the world, yet something went wrong. We still do not know the reason why, for there is a saying amongst our people: A hatchet buried in history is a hatchet never seen. However, rumours have it that the Homm'Ogr desired what lies in the south beyond the mountains. The Homm'Nua vehemently objected to it while the Homm'Eot tried dissuading them. What happened afterwards, should such tales be true, is not known. After all, a hatchet buried in history is a hatchet never seen.
As a result, rangers were needed as auxiliary troops against the occasional orcish raid. By any standard of the Homm'Ogr, this means months of bloodshed, an occurrence best likened to a dormant volcano erupting violently. After the third such attack, Aellen de Stormhearth, Crown of the Homm'Nua, commissioned a census throughout the elven territory. Brayn Ironsiege, Crown of the Homm'Eot, followed suit, for he was ever an opportunistic king. The intent of both rulers was the same: To find out how many halfborne were there under their respective rule.
The numbers totalled up to twenty thousand strong, men and maidens strong enough to traverse across terrain while wielding bows, slings, and swords. This was not taking into account children and youths yet to enter the Rite of Coming, a test of understanding and ability before one could be recognised as an adult.
Alas even then, proper recognition was more of a child's dream than an attainable fantasy. Circumstances, however, tend to deal the most unexpected hand. As it turned out, the rangers now serve as a reminder of a golden age never to be surpassed.
Current scenario:
As fighters and scouts who utilised sniping and underhanded means to win a fight, rangers were soon recognised as the first sellswords to grace the pages of history. Perhaps via inspiration or due to dire straits, mercenaries soon took the field in droves. The downfall of an era promised much riches and many ways to die, therefore how can one ever resist the lure? Utterly disillusioned by dreams cruelly mocked, the rangers abandoned their duty. Like those who came after them, they indulged in fighting for coin and spending their keep. Be it on food, ale, or whores, an army of hounds soon became a pack of wolves. Answerable to no one and held accountable to none. They used to be tightly knitted, yet each chose in the end to go his individual way. Some chose to hold onto what was left, most pledged their causes to the highest bidder.
Like every profession, there must be new blood coming in. No longer fettered by the arrogance of their masters, each ranger would always make sure to nurture a child for this very life. It could be an abandoned infant still alive or a child lost in the woods. If one has enough coin, a purchase from an orphanage would be a surer bet. If one was daring enough, surely a noble's daughter or a merchant's son would go missing under the moon and stars. To every ranger, only children were able to learn fast. At the same time, they acknowledged the ability to ask questions tend to result in survival in the long run rather than outright death. A notion which an otherwise civilised world scoffed at its own pitiful loss. In the short run, however, any outcome could be a possibility.
Ability:
Rangers are masters of terrain warfare. Guided by instinct, adaptation would only be a matter of minutes, if not within an hour or so. Whenever needed, a skilled ranger can stay unmoving for days. Be it beneath the canopy, behind the thick trunk of a tree, or among bushes and shrubs, the finest assassin is always the most patient one.
When it comes to proficiency, a ranger is always required to master one type of projectile weapon and one type of melee weapon. The former can range from crossbow to throwing knives while the latter includes any weapon type apart from the heavy ones like halberds and two-handed swords.
In ranged combat, a ranger favours a single attack piercing the opponent's eye rather than letting loose a barrage or a crippling hit. At the same time, rangers always pick the best spot instead of just engaging the enemy upon sight. This results in long ranged attacks done from the high ground or short ranged attacks fired from any cover.
In melee fighting, the first attack will always define the ranger's next move and beyond. Against a single target, such tactic is called assassination. Against a group, such an approach becomes a case of assessing and strike. Either way, it is imperative for the first attack to result in the target either dead or maimed. Either way, a ranger relies on fast hitting attacks with the decisive blow struck once the target presents an opening.
When it comes to dodging attacks, rangers excelled best in any terrain offering enough space and cover. Yet, it must be stated that they tend to fight best under the cover of a forest with stumbling roots tripping the opponent instead of the combatant. After all, limited space means a better chance of parrying attacks. At the same time, running away is not so much about having enough space, but rather fast thinking and knowing where to run. In any party of adventurers, a ranger can easily slip out of enemy view to deliver a fatal stroke. For they are known as masters of assassination both on the battlefield and alone within the shadows.
As a result, rangers were needed as auxiliary troops against the occasional orcish raid. By any standard of the Homm'Ogr, this means months of bloodshed, an occurrence best likened to a dormant volcano erupting violently. After the third such attack, Aellen de Stormhearth, Crown of the Homm'Nua, commissioned a census throughout the elven territory. Brayn Ironsiege, Crown of the Homm'Eot, followed suit, for he was ever an opportunistic king. The intent of both rulers was the same: To find out how many halfborne were there under their respective rule.
The numbers totalled up to twenty thousand strong, men and maidens strong enough to traverse across terrain while wielding bows, slings, and swords. This was not taking into account children and youths yet to enter the Rite of Coming, a test of understanding and ability before one could be recognised as an adult.
Alas even then, proper recognition was more of a child's dream than an attainable fantasy. Circumstances, however, tend to deal the most unexpected hand. As it turned out, the rangers now serve as a reminder of a golden age never to be surpassed.
Current scenario:
As fighters and scouts who utilised sniping and underhanded means to win a fight, rangers were soon recognised as the first sellswords to grace the pages of history. Perhaps via inspiration or due to dire straits, mercenaries soon took the field in droves. The downfall of an era promised much riches and many ways to die, therefore how can one ever resist the lure? Utterly disillusioned by dreams cruelly mocked, the rangers abandoned their duty. Like those who came after them, they indulged in fighting for coin and spending their keep. Be it on food, ale, or whores, an army of hounds soon became a pack of wolves. Answerable to no one and held accountable to none. They used to be tightly knitted, yet each chose in the end to go his individual way. Some chose to hold onto what was left, most pledged their causes to the highest bidder.
Like every profession, there must be new blood coming in. No longer fettered by the arrogance of their masters, each ranger would always make sure to nurture a child for this very life. It could be an abandoned infant still alive or a child lost in the woods. If one has enough coin, a purchase from an orphanage would be a surer bet. If one was daring enough, surely a noble's daughter or a merchant's son would go missing under the moon and stars. To every ranger, only children were able to learn fast. At the same time, they acknowledged the ability to ask questions tend to result in survival in the long run rather than outright death. A notion which an otherwise civilised world scoffed at its own pitiful loss. In the short run, however, any outcome could be a possibility.
Ability:
Rangers are masters of terrain warfare. Guided by instinct, adaptation would only be a matter of minutes, if not within an hour or so. Whenever needed, a skilled ranger can stay unmoving for days. Be it beneath the canopy, behind the thick trunk of a tree, or among bushes and shrubs, the finest assassin is always the most patient one.
When it comes to proficiency, a ranger is always required to master one type of projectile weapon and one type of melee weapon. The former can range from crossbow to throwing knives while the latter includes any weapon type apart from the heavy ones like halberds and two-handed swords.
In ranged combat, a ranger favours a single attack piercing the opponent's eye rather than letting loose a barrage or a crippling hit. At the same time, rangers always pick the best spot instead of just engaging the enemy upon sight. This results in long ranged attacks done from the high ground or short ranged attacks fired from any cover.
In melee fighting, the first attack will always define the ranger's next move and beyond. Against a single target, such tactic is called assassination. Against a group, such an approach becomes a case of assessing and strike. Either way, it is imperative for the first attack to result in the target either dead or maimed. Either way, a ranger relies on fast hitting attacks with the decisive blow struck once the target presents an opening.
When it comes to dodging attacks, rangers excelled best in any terrain offering enough space and cover. Yet, it must be stated that they tend to fight best under the cover of a forest with stumbling roots tripping the opponent instead of the combatant. After all, limited space means a better chance of parrying attacks. At the same time, running away is not so much about having enough space, but rather fast thinking and knowing where to run. In any party of adventurers, a ranger can easily slip out of enemy view to deliver a fatal stroke. For they are known as masters of assassination both on the battlefield and alone within the shadows.
Lore focus: Bounty hunting
Origin:
Where there are sellswords, there are surely criminals on the run. No one knows exactly when bounty hunting as a way to earn money first started. Some said it began when mercenaries started plying their trade and the various rulers knowing the need not to make enemies out of them. At least not if they could help it. Then there are those who claimed that it was originally intended as a form of mockery directed towards the nobility who always enjoy hunting as a sport. Some believed this practice was started during the Age of Harmony when the Causaceans were a unified people. Either that or it began after the War of the Three Thrones in order to deal with unlawful elements beyond any authority's control.
No matter which one is the correct answer, any mercenary would just give a shrug should this question be asked. That plus a sardonic remark or two directed towards the so-called intellectuals, people who actually spend their free time debating over such a pointless topic in a comfortable room.
How the market works:
While bounty hunting is absolutely legal and a convenient way to get rid of problematic individuals, any authority knows the need to supervise a trade involving volatile elements. For a start, mercenaries aren't exactly the most civilised people in the world. Secondly, competition may eventually give way to a chaotic free for all over a particular bounty, a notion scoffed by sellswords who know their code of conduct better than kings or civilians. Indeed there has always been a golden rule where bounty hunting is concerned: He who claims the kill claims the credit, but he who engages the prey must never be impeded. Anyone who breaks this rule runs the risk of dishonour, a situation resulting in either isolation or hostility from those who know both the deed and doer.
In every town or city, an office in charge of managing the transactions is set up. Not only is this the only legal place where payment is given, this is also the only place allowed by the authorities to disclose which targets are available. An issue which bounty hunters have no problem with since it's all about the money. Targets are classified into three categories:
Category I targets are fugitives guilty of petty crimes. Acts like theft and robbery committed against the rich and powerful. The reward is always paid through pence (that is, the lowest level of Causacean currency).
Category II targets are those guilty of more serious crimes like rape, arson, and murder. The reward available involves either a mix of quarters (that is, the second level of Causacean currency) and pence or a payment of purely quarters.
Category III targets are like those under Category II, only more dangerous for all the obvious reasons. Such targets are the only way for bounty hunters to earn crowns (the highest level of Causacean currency) with rare cases commanding a fee of crowns and gems combined.
To obtain rightful payment, proof of the deed done must be given. This means a severed head belonging to the target. As a result, bounty hunting is something welcomed by undertakers. To every sellsword, payment is always a matter of racing against time, for to live by the sword means learning to expect the unexpected. At the same time, no one can ever discern the identity of a rotting corpse, let alone a rotting head. Even though an exorbitant fee is synonymous with the service of embalming within this context, a sellsword knows how valuable this seemingly unworthy task is. At the same time, not every mercenary is willing to own a horse. Therefore, stable owners also stand to profit from any deal brokered albeit not as much compared to the undertakers.
)0(
Okay, I know this post isn't worth that much compared to what I'm normally used to doing. However, there's no point pushing myself to the point where I know my standard may be compromised. Once my brain hit a blank, I know it's time to give up the ghost. Lastly, I'll just up this vid.
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