The Blackshields
| Allied with... | those who pay. |
| In Conflict with... | those who don't. |
Crorefell. City of Fools. Home to the Storied, and those less fortunate. The Blackshield Company, whilst renowned, cannot claim such fame. Founded at era's turn, the Company has eked out an existence any which way it could. Fighting for northern lords and southern suzerains; enforcing law and order in the lawless reaches of Khurun; slaying monsters, battling beasts. Anything to fill the coffers and make ends meet. For those who march under the black banner are not picky...
So long as they get paid.
What is the Blackshield Company?
A mercenary company comprised of heroes and villains, knights, rogues and restless souls looking for a fresh start. Soldiers of fortune, they sell their swords to the highest bidder, and leave the moralising to those with too much time on their hands. Well. Unless it pays.
Where can I find them?
On the road and off it. Follow the turn of the seasons, and you are like as not to find the bulk of the Company campaigning, or else wintering in Crorefell.
Structure
Though mere swords-for-hire, the Company takes itself seriously. Disciplined, well-ordered, they obey the word of their Captain above all others. Officers, sergeants, corporals. All have their place and purpose, so long as they don't get too carried away. No-one wants to die for another man's cause, after all. But that doesn't mean they won't kill for it. Besides, there are other ways to serve the Company. Here are a few:
The Captain - Commander 'n' Chief. Battlemaster. The closest thing to a God, where the men and women of the Company are concerned. Nominated by their brethren, they are entrusted to guide the company to victory, fame and fortune, though not always in that order. Deals directly with potential sponsors. Whether they lead from the front of back does not matter, assuming they lead well. Those who fail don't tend to last long.
The Second - Chosen by the Captain. Blackshield veteran. Often seen as the next in line to command the company, they represent the Captain when and where necessity dictates. Shares the burden of command along with the rest of the officer cadre. Not to be trifled with.View attachment 926
Boar Riders - Company elite. An ace sitting up the Captain's sleeve. The giant war-boars are a company trademark. Fast, fearsome, they strike fear into both man and beast with their long tusks and thick hides. Fitted with custom barding, their riders are similarly clad in black platemail. Armed with battle axes and lances. Sometimes bows.
The Heavies - Infantry. Footsloggers. The meat of the Company. Interspersed by Shroudweavers, they act as both hammer and anvil, taking the brunt of a blow, only to give it back twice as hard. The bravest and meanest excel here. The smart ones get promoted.
The Strength - Non-combatants. Followers and hangers-on. Armourers and blacksmiths, cobblers and tailors. Beer-slingers. Medicae. Husbands, wives, and women of ill repute. The menials and the essentials.
Spendthrifts - A misnomer. Ironic descriptor. Spendthrifts are the recruitors and moneymen. They bring in the new talent, and seperate the wheat from the chaff. They keep the books, ensuring everyone gets their due, and that sponsors don't attempt to pull a fast one. A deal is a deal, after all. Word is bond. And nobody likes a fuckin' pinchpurse.
The Venerated - Veterans who still wish to serve the Black, though are no longer willing -or are unable- to fight for it. Elders and familymen. Cripples and amputees. The majority get sent to Crorefell, where the chief among them represent the company within the Steel Rabble - the city's ruling body. The mercenary band might not be Storied, but that doesn't make them unstoried. A rep is still a rep. And the Blackshields have the muscle to back it up.
Who can join?
Everyone. Humans, elves, dwarves, devahni. Beastkin. Blackguards. Men, women and the uncertains. So long as they toe the line and are willing to bleed or be bled for the Company. The Spendthrifts aren't fussy, but if you prove more trouble than you're worth, they'll sooner give you the boot as hand you blade.
View attachment 927 Artwork by Stepan Alekseev
So long as they get paid.
What is the Blackshield Company?
A mercenary company comprised of heroes and villains, knights, rogues and restless souls looking for a fresh start. Soldiers of fortune, they sell their swords to the highest bidder, and leave the moralising to those with too much time on their hands. Well. Unless it pays.
Where can I find them?
On the road and off it. Follow the turn of the seasons, and you are like as not to find the bulk of the Company campaigning, or else wintering in Crorefell.
Structure
Though mere swords-for-hire, the Company takes itself seriously. Disciplined, well-ordered, they obey the word of their Captain above all others. Officers, sergeants, corporals. All have their place and purpose, so long as they don't get too carried away. No-one wants to die for another man's cause, after all. But that doesn't mean they won't kill for it. Besides, there are other ways to serve the Company. Here are a few:
The Captain - Commander 'n' Chief. Battlemaster. The closest thing to a God, where the men and women of the Company are concerned. Nominated by their brethren, they are entrusted to guide the company to victory, fame and fortune, though not always in that order. Deals directly with potential sponsors. Whether they lead from the front of back does not matter, assuming they lead well. Those who fail don't tend to last long.
The Second - Chosen by the Captain. Blackshield veteran. Often seen as the next in line to command the company, they represent the Captain when and where necessity dictates. Shares the burden of command along with the rest of the officer cadre. Not to be trifled with.View attachment 926
Boar Riders - Company elite. An ace sitting up the Captain's sleeve. The giant war-boars are a company trademark. Fast, fearsome, they strike fear into both man and beast with their long tusks and thick hides. Fitted with custom barding, their riders are similarly clad in black platemail. Armed with battle axes and lances. Sometimes bows.
The Heavies - Infantry. Footsloggers. The meat of the Company. Interspersed by Shroudweavers, they act as both hammer and anvil, taking the brunt of a blow, only to give it back twice as hard. The bravest and meanest excel here. The smart ones get promoted.
The Strength - Non-combatants. Followers and hangers-on. Armourers and blacksmiths, cobblers and tailors. Beer-slingers. Medicae. Husbands, wives, and women of ill repute. The menials and the essentials.
Spendthrifts - A misnomer. Ironic descriptor. Spendthrifts are the recruitors and moneymen. They bring in the new talent, and seperate the wheat from the chaff. They keep the books, ensuring everyone gets their due, and that sponsors don't attempt to pull a fast one. A deal is a deal, after all. Word is bond. And nobody likes a fuckin' pinchpurse.
The Venerated - Veterans who still wish to serve the Black, though are no longer willing -or are unable- to fight for it. Elders and familymen. Cripples and amputees. The majority get sent to Crorefell, where the chief among them represent the company within the Steel Rabble - the city's ruling body. The mercenary band might not be Storied, but that doesn't make them unstoried. A rep is still a rep. And the Blackshields have the muscle to back it up.
Who can join?
Everyone. Humans, elves, dwarves, devahni. Beastkin. Blackguards. Men, women and the uncertains. So long as they toe the line and are willing to bleed or be bled for the Company. The Spendthrifts aren't fussy, but if you prove more trouble than you're worth, they'll sooner give you the boot as hand you blade.
View attachment 927 Artwork by Stepan Alekseev
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