TFW you take the night watch because it pays more but is twice as dangerous

Cant fight back if theyre dead.

You're arguing the wrong point, laddie. The man's telling you that women care not for those in the profession of night watcher. You want to find a woman? Go find a job better suited to it. If you've already got a lass? I'm sure she wouldn't run off on you for taking the nightman's post.

Fine I guess. I just ain't into the book learnin you know? You think i can be like Harrisel and do that, whatchamacallit? Book making with that press he got? If I'm going to be muscle I ain't going to be no muscle of a glasses wearing sod who snickers cause I can't read as well as he.

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Boy. If you wanna be muscle, make a difference, AND get the girl there's only one thing you CAN do: Go out there and take the light of day to the fuckers that stalk the night!

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Well, look on the bright side: Maybe you'll find yourself a nice werewolf out there in the dark. How are you with knots?

Can't say I know much about "knots" cept messing with rope. I'm not a farm boy or anything.

Yeah, but then everyone expects you to be celibate and that can get pretty awkward.

Depends. I've seen more than a few women who like to play "the bishop and the nun."

Usually they'll call you daddy, but if you do it right then they'll call you Father.

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To right brother. Say? Did you hear? Theres a new scam going around called Indulgences. Easy money there if you can get a posting for it.

Peasant.

>TFW royal guard
>volunteer for night duty guarding royal mansions
>10/10 cortesean girls
>in that 18-24 year old prime
>hear whispers from bedroom windows on patrol
>told to meet in places like water closets, stables, store rooms and shit
>take a detours on my way back to the billet once off duty
>we've basically got full run of the place anyway
>rail highborn sloots every day before breakfast
>probably a few noblemen out there who's sons are really mine
>occasionally blast a succubi back to hell with my firelance
>fuck yeah firelance

It's good a good life

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Leastwise all you got to do is stand around all day and look pretty. Ain't out on the field watchin' the boys from your village go when some leech bastard pops out of a shadow or a grave or a clump of dirt to suck 'em dry and turn 'em loose on you. Or a gods-cursed fuzzy feral stumble up to you in the buff with a 'hey mate I got robbed on the road, you got any clothes', and when your old buddy turns around to get him some he turns and rips your friend's throat out.

And you're bitchin' about the night watch bein' dangerous and you not gettin' enough pussy.

You wanna trade places? How'sabout you take the death and the rot and the necromancers draggin' corpses out of swamps, and I'll take the night watch and fuck a kid or two into that barmaid you like so much.

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You've never had to deal with a necromancer, have you ?

Whats all this about a necromancer? I may be a gambling womanizing drunken vainglorious overdressed fool, but I am a bishop, and if theres a real necromancer practicing, I need to inform my superiors right away.

'A' necromancer.

Oi, , get a load of this fool.

He thinks there's 'a' necromancer in the Swamp.

'A'.

Ha. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

'A.'

Why'dyou think they call us the Gravedigger Battalion, Father? It ain't just *our* mortality rates.

>bitching about the night's watch
>not becoming the fucking watch knight

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And expose the fact he's been lax about keeing the binding spells on the graveyards because he's too busy sticking his holy rod into a grave robber with tits?

Tell me specifics man, locations, places, dates, times, that sort of thing. Why, we can't have the undead just running about willy nilly, the whores I fuck are in danger.

Do you know who this person is by name? If you do, I can send a letter to the brothers of justice and mercy, and we'll do a formal tribunal, make him answer for his deeds, and then either burn him or stone him to death. Or possibly both.

I'm just saying that when you're dealing with a necromancer, even the dead will fight back. Thus, anyone who thinks that the dead can't fight back clearly hasn't had to deal with one.

Lets just say that Dickless Dave learnt that while earning his nickname.

recap so far

>there are wild vampires and shit
>necromancers in the woods
>guards wield crossbows, swords, and fire lances to protect civilization from the restless dead
>Everyone really wants to get laid

What the fuck do you think we do all day, Father? Sit about in the swamp drinkin' an' laughin' an' sayin' 'golly I'm sure glad for that drunken fuckin' priest in town doin' all our work for us?' Your whores are in good hands.

...your whores' /safety/ is in good hands.

If there's a necromancer in town, and it's you, then Bishop Blowjob over here's got a lot more to worry about than the fuckers in the swamp, and judging by the way you talk I'm thinkin' it is you, 'cause there ain't no way anyone'd pay a necromancer to hold down a graveyard. s'like payin' a fox to guard a chicken coop.

Is that a silencer on a crossbow? WTF am I looking at

>8
Do I look like I raise the dead? I barely get enough conversation out of most of you living sobs

And everyone hates their jobs

No, no user. There's necromancers in the _swamp_. The woods is werewolves.

No reason 'tall to suspect us humble grave diggers sirrah. We're just doin' our part to keep the bodies where they belong.

If I'm not mistaken, that's a rifle with a backup crossbow built in.

They already know all about Larry. He's an old friend of the king and they are really worried about what the king will do if they make any move on Larry without very convincing evidence.

Our word isn't enough.

...Duh? That's exactly what I meant. Lycanthropy can be cured, so if you can tie a wolfman instead of killing him you have a chance at saving the poor blighter that was cursed to begin with. What did you think I meant?

>There's necromancers in the _swamp_. The woods is werewolves.

Depends which part of the woods you're talking about. Or which week it is.

What you fellows need is some holy weapons. And maybe a nice big torch mob to just burn the swamp to the ground. Fire cleanses the souls, undead who are killed by fire proceed off to their destiny, rather than simply revive again in some other body.

Yet if there is someone in the town practicing necromancy, your lot should be the first to know.

Under the new regulatibus I must report this to my superiors within the temple hierarchy. If you have strong enough evidence I may be able to persuade some certain people to give me a writ to investigate this larry fellow further. Yet if larry is acting with the patronage of the king for some reason, there's little I can do to stop it except appeal to the king to move away from this path in a formal letter.

Are you takin' the piss?

You and me both. Hopefully it stays that way. Then again, ain't my problem if it don't. Not like I get to go back in town anymore. A whole year on this blighted shithole border swamp. A whole year.

>curin' a skinchanger
Oh, sure, if yer lucky enough to get one of the ones who really is a cursed blighter and not one of the nasty ones pretendin' so's he can flip back to fuzz and rip your throat out. Can't cure evil. Best not to risk it.

Most necromancers don't *look* like they raise the dead. Most necromancers don't *look* like anythin' but regular folk till they start chantin' and glowin'.

Come off it! Do I look like I scratch the ground and mumble to tombstones? In that case check any of the panzy noble boys bored to death in their silk hoses and powered wigs pretending to be men in public

>Can't cure evil. Best not to risk it.

You ever seen one of them young? Like big, vicious puppies. But there's a kid under there, no mistaking it, and if you can give just one boy his life back, it's worth it.

Alrigh', y'know, that's fair. Workin' class oughta stick together. Sorry. You start hearin' shit out in the swamp. Mutterin' an' wailin' an' other things what ain't natural.

Oh, we got fire, Father. We got all the fire you'd ever want.

Y'know, they blessed us, 'fore we went out? The Temple did. Said we was honorary sacred knights, cleansin' a foul land. Said the Gravediggers Battalion was gonna set the whole damn place ablaze an' purge every last thing in it.

Been two years since we was out here. They rotate new boys in every week. It's just me an' Sven left, now, from the first. I hear the new boys get handed a firelance an' some grenades an' they don't even bother with the blessings no more. They just tell 'em "point it at the swamp an' you'll hit somethin' we're aimin' for, probably.'"

Gods damn.

It can't hurt for you report this. Worst case, nothing happens. I wrote everything down in the report I filed a few years ago. I can arrange for you to take a look at it. If you'll pay for the wizard, you can even take a copy.

I've seen Larry glowing and chanting. I've seen dead getting back up while he did so. Though what I haven't seen is his minions attack anyone other than Dave and he tried to stick his dick in one of them first.

It's good an all I suppose. At the end of it it's dolts like us that man the wall and muck in the mud while the nobles get to come by after everything is safe in their clean armor and sissy flower smelling capes.

What? They didn't even give you any holy water or silver powder? Who do they think they are sending you off without the most basic of undead fighting tools. Something is seriously rotten somewhere, my lad. This lack of a blessing is the most serious thing I've yet heard, as its a severe breach of normal regulatory protocols. I've decided to hitch up my adventuring breeches and go to the swamp with you, I'll bless the weaponry and the grenades myself, even. In exchange for two whores and a barrel of rum. It'll help me resolve a certain mid-life crises of mine, for you see I always wanted to go off on adventures and bash the heads of heretics, but I never really got the chance, since I was destined for the hierarchy since clergy school. I'm sure, dead certain sure, some heretic or other is behind this.

I'll need to see the copy, do you know what bishop or archbishop it was sent to?

Well somebody's got to do it. Got to have somethin' you believe in. Somethin' you're willin' t' crawl out on the filthy fetid ground for. Somethin' that keeps you goin', with nothin' but a helmet, a heavy coat, a firelance, an' the weekly grenades t' keep you safe.

Hells. I figure by now my pension's enough I could just go fuck off to another country, buy myself a fancy mansion, an' be one of them clean-armor bastards. Find a nice wife, settle down, start a little brood.

But you can't just walk away from this shit. Not when you believe there's work to be done, can ya?

One boy in exchange for four gettin' him down.

Ain't worth it. Ain't never worth it.

There's a copy still in the watchouse. Come by around shift change and you can take a look.

Oh, no, Father. They gave me and Sven an' the first-rounders all the tools. We used 'em up. Then they sent more boys with more tools. They got used up, too. The boys and the tools. Spent. Spent. Spent. Happened over, an' over, an' over, until finally they just stopped botherin' with the tools. Too expensive, said the letter. Too much spent. Too much wasted. Not enough progress.

You think we've got whores out here? You think we've got anything but the fucking swamp? For miles, and miles, and miles, it's just the damned swamp, Father. You're welcome to come out if y'like, but don't expect to go home. Nobody really goes home. Even if yer sent home, you won't forget the swamp. The whisperin'. The wailin'. The dead trees from all angles.

Well, all I know is I gots the means to do it and if no one does it then shit's fucked and it's hard to get a good drink, a hearty meal and a warm bed and boxum woman when what monsters have free reign. I don't claim to be some enlightened sort. I'm a man of the arth and is all there is to it.

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My lad, I've faced things so dark you can't even imagine it. For the first seven years of my calling I was an exorcists assistant. That was ages ago thank the gods, but that stuff, it changes a man, it makes a man say his prayers every day, even if his face is nose deep in a whore's tits. I'm going out there, I'm doing every holy thing I can, and we're going to clean this mess up. I'm tired of being a half-old drunken fool. It's time for a crusade. Time to give the powers of darkness a black bloody eye is what it is. I don't really fear death, I've sired enough bastards in my time here. I'll go to the swamp with you and your men in the next few days, in the meanwhile, I'll be writing letters to all the priests under me to preach sermons about the absolute necessity of finding evildoers and punishing them, and the absolute necessity of reporting necromancers, heretics and the undead. You'll get your reinforcements, even if it's torch wielding peasants who simply burn half the swamp down. Enough is enough, this infestation was supposed to be cleared up ages ago, and someone is either knowingly prolonging it, or someone is a servant of a demon and is making sure you can't truly win.

I'll do that.

By the gods, sir, if you can do even a scrap of it, then I'll be right there till the end with ya. Hope's been a bitter drought out here. I'm not gettin' mine up till I see what you're made of, but if you're of sterner stuff, then, well...

Be nice. Be right proper nice.

Let's drink to that, lads. To men who do what ought be done, to men who die doin' what needs to be done, an' to men who try when no one else will. Amen an' gods-bless.

>Royal Guard Captain: "Hey, you wanna be a Royal Guard?"
>Hapless man-at-arms: "I don't know - I was thinking a mercenary company, be a pikeman..."
>"What - the careful art of balanced attack and defense? Yeah, you could do it that way. Or you could just take this fucking firelance and burn people down with one shot."
>"What kind of tactics do you use?"
>"Every person around you also gets a firelance."
>"Is the training hard?"
>"Firelance."
>"Right, sorry."

>I understand that reference.jpg

We'll destroy the evil if we have to burn every tree in that wretched place to a cinder. There shall be no mercy, none, for any evildoer found, and any witch or skulking creep is to be burned alive on the spot, save the arrows and bolts and such for the undead. And if the undead happen to be carrying anything of value, well, I'm sure the men would enjoy being able to supplement their pay, since anything in the possession of the walking dead is considered ill-gotten goods and fair game to loot.

Lets drink to this, and if we die, well by the gods we'll go straight off to the celestial abodes, for aren't we doing a holy deed and are we not fighting evil and giving our lives in the services of good?

Aye, Father. If we live, we're heroes. If we die, we're saints.

Not a bad way to go, all things equal.

>You'll get your reinforcements, even if it's torch wielding peasants who simply burn half the swamp down

We've had a crazy fire wizard living in the swamp for about 6 months. Just look for the fireballs any sunday evening, you'll see where she is. I figure that the only reason she hasn't burnt down the swamp is that all the wood is too wet to burn.

Make no mistake my lad, I don't plan to die at the hands of any lurching corpse or fiendish spook, yet no man knows his time but the gods above who call his name at the end. And think of the rewards, whores raining their affections on you and glory to your names. Don't lets forget the money. Under article 27 of the code of uniform temple law, all possession of any and all objects, texts, devices, items, weapons, attire, and other belongings found in the possession of a proved accused necromancer is considered ill gotten gain, and fair game to loot. So if we find this fellows hidey spot, we get to pillage it to the ground and steal everything that isn't nailed to the floor, then come back and steal that stuff later.

More'n one fellow in there, Father. More'n one. Hope you're not overconfident.

Excellent, by the end of this, if we survive it, every man of you will be rich enough to retire. If we survive it. Are there enough men capable of bearing arms to just go in there in a pogrom and torch the place or otherwise utterly destroy it?

Men? There's me and Sven, still. Boys? A whole mess of 'em. Temple ships 'em in every month. Come at the first of the month an' you'll have all the bright-eyed boys who wanna be heroes you'd need to carry as much as you want.

Think you might be livin' in a different swamp.

I think I see what the problem is. I think the problem is that there aren't enough of your warriors living long enough to be very capable. Treating injuries inflicted by the undead is hard business, and aside from some very basic knowledge, such as applying a mixture of salt and garlic to a wound, I know very little about that sort of thing.

Mostly the problem is there's more evil in the swamp than anybody counted on. Most often nobody gets injured. They just get dead.

But I'm sure that helps, Father. I weren't a chemist before. Couldn't tell you about that. We lost our plague doctor ages ago.

Have you tried crafting a homunculus? They can't betray you if you both share the same life and mind.

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user, if you suddenly found yourself in a female's body one day with the male version of you lustfully demanding to have sex with you, would you go through with it?

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What is the history of the swamp? Perhaps theres some evil deeds that made the place 'off' in its history, and what it needs is a more general exorcism of the whole place. There could also be some form of curse in effect, but really I'd need to be part of a formal inquiry to determine what exactly to do there if this is the case, as theres little I can do by myself in that case. I'm going out there with you regardless, even if it is just to investigate and try to figure out what is causing the evil so it may be banished by holier men than I.

Don't rightly know, Father. Probably some big evil happened here. Whisperin' an' such. Probably some big evil sleepin' out here. I'm not an educated man. I only know what I see. What I've seen. What I've had to do. What I've done.

I've spent two years of my life in this gods-forsaken shithole swamp, myself, an' I can't imagine anyone lonely enough to want to have sex with a doll when there's proper women about.

In three days time I'll be going to the swamp, in the meanwhile, I have prayers and rituals even I must observe, and I must retire to the temple. Expect to be hearing fire breathing sermons and expect even more men than usual. Do you know the prayer of St. Andrew or the Prayer of St. Thurgen?

>St. Andrew's Prayer
"Saint Andrew the blessed pardoner, look down on I, a sinner in my hour of need, and give me hope and faith to face this trial, blessing me with your holy sign, and giving salve to my sinful soul with your holy graciousness."

>St. Thurgen's Prayer
"Saint Thurgen, destroyer of evil, give me the strength and accuracy I need to utterly smash crush and destroy this evil, let there be no mercy for it in this life or the next, let every hellish thing fall upon it, and let my strike find the true path to ending it's existence."

Aye, Father. I'm not an educated man but I am a faithful one. Hear that makes a world of difference.

I'll tell the lads t' hole up. Gods willing we'll survive those three days with everyone intact. Don't expect it. But if we bunker down good we might.

Sometimes all the tricks and travesties we do are for naught and only faith, true faith, protects us. Say every holy prayer you can think of when you bunker down, and believe in what you say no matter what you see or hear. Evil takes many forms, some are so horrible it withers the soul and turns young men old, but all evil fears, truly fears, is utterly terrified in the wildest most extravagant sense of the words, true and honest faith.

I, uh, yes. Transcendental incest is a prerequisite for the powerful majicks, and I swear I don't just have solipsistic intimacy issues born out of childhood abuse by the hand of my mother.

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