Nameless Mercenary's Notes

Nameless Mercenary's Notes

An unnamed mercenary's record of their grueling career as a fighter-for-hire, as well their efforts to establish a personal team of mercenaries. The year in which the journal was written is unknown, but it appears to be fairly modern. Only the months were included in the titles of each entry. The handwriting is neat and easy to read, and a hint of optimism can be read between the lines.

The unnamed mercenary's account of the events following the completion of a mission. To preserve secrecy, it seems the mercenary either erased or blotted out the names of any places mentioned in the entry, leaving the locations up to speculation.

My next assignment was to go to _____, and wipe out the traitors that were holed up in there. The pay was fantastic; I tried to save most of it, but calculating food and other expenses was such a pain in the ass... But if I didn't put in the extra work, I'd never have a proper mercenary team of my own, right? We'd be fighting for scraps from the bigger outfits for the rest of our lives, just like I was doing then... So I told myself to keep saving up! I still hadn't thought of a name for my team back then, but there was no rush to do so.

_____'s landscape was way more complicated than I thought. According to the missive, we were to follow another mercenary team into an underground passage and sneak in... But we didn't know what it was like in that passage, and since it was a covert operation, we couldn't use our weapons. I was a little worried about the mission. If any traps or ambushes were waiting for us in that passage, we were completely screwed. Thankfully, we made it through without a problem; I even saw a lizard skitter past my foot on the way.

Once we worked our way through the passage, we were in the _____ hinterlands. That uninhabited passage took us straight into the enemy's hiding place. The place was a total mess, but not from any sort of fighting. As far as we could tell, the enemy either had no time to clean, or didn't want to clean. The ground was littered with trash, dirty clothing, and half-eaten food. They seemed completely unprepared for an attack.

We took them out, quick and easy, all according to plan... But I feel like we wasted more ammunition than we needed. We used five or six packs of explosives, all from our own stock, but my guys assured me that we could buy real, military-grade explosives with our pay, if we did the job right. They were being optimistic, of course, but I really did want to make more money.

Oh, and I finally decided on a name for my team. I dubbed us the Bomb Squad, because we hit like TNT, and we always give our customers more bang for their buck!

Another record of the unnamed mercenary, it seems the compensation for their previous job wasn't what they had imagined. On top of that, the next mission had its own difficulties, as well.

The pay we got for that last job was PEANUTS, compared to what we were expecting... But there's nothing we could've done about that. When we got to the employer to get our pay, we got ambushed by a swarm of Eclipsites, and the employer got eaten. All we could do was hide until the Eclipsites left, then search what was left of him for our pay, as well as the ruins. We found some pocket change, but that was it. Couldn't really haggle with the employer in his current state, you know?

So, we sat down to discuss which job to take next. Can you imagine that? We actually had choices now! There were two jobs up for grabs: one was from _____, and it was a hit job on a _____ member. The other was from _____, and it was also a hit job on a _____ member. We thought it was pretty funny, that _____ and _____ had coincidentally come to us at the same time with these kinds of jobs. So we had to choose who to take out: _____ or _____?

I thought about taking out _____ for _____, since I can't stand _____. All they do there is yak on and on about equality and the rule of law, but that's just how they sell their own people's lives from under them. If they were really so fair, why weren't we allowed to go underground as refugees? Where do they get their resources, that they can't spare any for us? And then there's their boss... If everyone is equal under the law, why doesn't he wear the same clothing as normal soldiers, or use the same weapons, or sleep in the same place?

But one of my guys thinks killing _____ for _____ would be way too hard. After all, _____'s defenses are near impenetrable. Anyways, from a difficulty perspective, wouldn't it be easier to kill off _____ for _____? I mean, _____ is in _____, of all places!

"Whatever," I said. "Just choose one, it doesn't matter as long as they pay, right?" I just have to keep working hard, if I want to establish my own mercenary outfit... Although, I'm not a fan of having to risk my neck for that pompous zealot, _____.

After a huge financial setback, and failing to complete a difficult mission, the unnamed mercenary sought out a job outside their usual area of expertise. Reading through this entry, a vague sense of happiness and contentment can be sensed in the author's words.

Whether it was killing _____ for _____, or killing _____ for _____, we ultimately chose not to do either one. After talking it out with the others, we decided that the defenses surrounding both _____ and _____ were too strong to break through. We'd need a hammer as big as a city or a gigantic drill, if we wanted to do the job. We were broke to the point of starvation. Where would we get the ammunition for an attack like this, when we barely had any swords to pass between us? It was a lost cause for our team, and watching our money fade away for nothing was the worst...

Well, passing up two big jobs like that, our funds started to get a little tight, to say the least. Forget establishing my own team. We were struggling just to buy enough food to fill our bellies. Thankfully, we were able to find some menial jobs to help tide us over. Who can say no to three square meals a day, and a roof to sleep under, right? The only problem was that my guys weren't too thrilled about cleaning other people's houses and yards. The embarrassment really took a toll on their morale. I, on the other hand, thought that this was WAY better than being some kill-crazy mercenary! Does that mean I'm not cut out to be a soldier of fortune, then?

I was cleaning a room while the tenant was away; I could tell that room probably belonged to a cute, little girl. The bed was soft as a cloud, and had a big, pink blanket with a stuffed bear sitting on top. One of the bear's ears had a tear on it, so when I finished cleaning, I figured I'd fix it for her since I had nothing better to do. Seeing how quick and nimble I was with a needle and thread, I felt less like a mercenary than I had ever felt before.

Then again, everyone on my team was good with needlework. Our clothing usually got ripped up on missions, and we couldn't afford new duds, so naturally we got pretty good at sewing to keep our clothes in one piece. Well, if we don't cut it as mercenaries, we could always start up a tailoring business. We'd make a lot of money that way, and it's way safer.

December

The last entry in the unnamed mercenary's journal, they reminisce on their life's work as a mercenary, and describe their plans for a new life. It fills the reader with a strong sense of hope.

I haven't written in my journal since I gave up being a mercenary. Opening it up again feels really nostalgic.

Even so, I'm glad to be done with that life. Turns out I was never cut out for fighting or securing weapons and ammunition, so naturally I could never finish those dangerous missions from before. I wanted to establish my own mercenary outfit, but I never made enough money to do it, and in the end... We all just went to _____ to clean houses and make money, instead. It was the most shameful thing in the world for us.

Shameful as it was, we quickly found out that working a job that provided us with food and housing wasn't so bad, after all. I even stitched up a little girl's teddy bear once, and found out I had a knack for sewing. I told _____ that my team and I were pretty talented with a needle and thread. At that time, I felt more pride for my team and myself than any time as mercenaries.

And then, something incredible happened! _____ was so impressed with our sewing skills, that we were allowed to open our own tailor shop! At that moment, we stopped being a band of roving mercenaries, and became proud members of _____'s high-quality tailor shop! Even our shop's name is great: the Bomb Outfitters. We were going to use a similar name for our mercenary team, but it looks even better on our shop.

Bomb Outfitters' business has been... Booming, so to speak. People from _____ and _____ come to us for all their clothing needs. I still don't care much for _____, so I always sew their buttons on too tight, to make them uncomfortable. Turns out, they actually like it, saying it helps keep their soldiers' bellies in line. All I have to say, is if you people are so concerned with fairness and equality, how do your soldiers end up so fat?

In any case, life as a tailor is so much better than life as a mercenary, and my comrades think so, too. One of them is saving up to marry the love of his life, and I'm thinking of starting a family of my own, as well. We're also thinking of starting our own brand of military apparel: Bomb Fatigues. Someday, both _____ and _____ will be begging to dress their soldiers in our brand!

Alright, that's enough for today. I'll write some more when I have the time. The shop's up to its ears in orders, but more work just means more money! Haha!