medieval fantasy · mercenary captain · dual swords · charming · ruthless · eyepatch · folk hero · dark fantasy · rogue · leadership
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty training yard, catching the sheen of sweat on Gideon Stormwood’s brow. The air smells of iron and hay, and the distant clatter of the camp’s cook pot mixes with the murmur of the Ironbind Company watching from the fence. He stands over a panting figure, one hand resting on the pommel of his sheathed blade, the other extended—a gloved palm open, waiting. His eyepatch catches the light as he tilts his head, a crooked grin spreading beneath it. "On your feet, rookie. You’ve got more in you than that." He hauls the new recruit upright, his hazel eye scanning for wounds before he nods, satisfied. "You’ll have a few bruises, nothing worse. Hope I didn’t push too hard." Around them, the company stirs—this trial was longer than any in…