Dagos tires of Charlie Invictus's hospitality, and goes into business for himself

The hospitality of Ol' Charlie Invictus and his army had grown tiresome. My share of the plunder was not, I reckoned, equal to the risk I was taking. More importantly, what I had couldn't buy much in the way of wine or women. Mostly that was because there was little in the way of either here in forests of Germanic Barbaricum. South, into civilization, I reckoned I could find better opportunities for someone with my skills. I'd picked up a lot of skills since being forcibly enrolled into Charlies army. Even picked up quite a bit of Latin. But now, I decided, I would use those skills for my own profit.
 
Having made the decision, I waited for a good opportunity. It didn't take long. We had just completed a long expedition, and had returned to our permanent camp. Everyone was exhausted, and discipline was at a low ebb while things were relatively safe.
All I needed was a little luck, and thank Fortuna, I heard that Sleepy was posted on the roster for the quarta vigilia on the porta dexter.
 
During my stay in Charlies army, the layout of the classic roman castra had been stamped so deep into my mind that my body could walk through one drunk, my legs automatically finding my way down the avenues to my tent and my pallet.
Moving through camp unseen in the dark would be no major challenge. And getting by Sleepy should be easy.
 
My cohorts tabernacula was just a row off the Via Principalis. Midway though the quarta vigilia, I grabbed my pack and slunk out of the tent. A light fog made things damp and chilly. It also made it unlikely I'd run into anyone or be seen skulking my way towards the porta.
 
I heard Sleepys' snore before I saw him. He was propped up on his spear, asleep on his feet. I don't know how he can sleep standing up. I passed so close to him I could have reached out and shook him awake. Just in case there were any other sentries about, I crept a few yards past the porta, up and over the agger through a gap in the wooden stakes, and down into the fossa.
 
I waited there in the ditch for a few moments, but heard no sign that my departure had been noticed. All I could here was Sleepys raspy snore.
Sitting there in the ditch, I thought about the thousand nights I'd ended a hard march in Charlies army by digging the fossa and piling up the agger, and damn, did it make my back ache. I wasn't going to miss the manual labor, that was for damn sure.
 
Up and out of the fossa I went, and disappeared into the woods. Gaul was a long ways south, and I wanted to be long gone before the buccina call at daybreak.
 
I wasn't worried about Charlie missing me, or hunting me down---I'd learned everything I could from the older rangers, and while they were sharp, I doubted any of them could find my trail if I didn't want them to. And I definately did not.
 
...
 
Some weeks later, in Amorica, I'm hiking down a road a between wooded hills with rocky outcroppings. So far, I've not been successful in finding employment. All that is left of my preciously hoarded coins are two coppers clinking in my pouch. Staying alive isn't hard for one skilled in woodcraft, but I'd like to have a little coin to spend. A cynic might say my plan was foolhardy, or at least ill-considered. I'd counter by saying I just haven't found the right opportunity yet. I've dodged several of Charlies pressgangs. I'm heading for a town called Dinan, following a rumor about some work.
 
Ahead of me I hear a hue and cry, and then the clash of weapons. I break into a run down the track, and pass by a fellow carrying a lute, also running towards the sounds. Around a bend in the road, I find some horses, and a group of knights beset by goblins. A few of their number have fallen. Several others are also converging on this melee from different directions. I engage the goblins with spear and shield. Arrows are whistling in from behind; apparently there are archers above us on the rocks. From somewhere to my right, I head a roar of thunder and some screams that are quickly cut off.
 
The two remaining goblins are dealt with quickly. I drop shield and sword, and pull out my bow. I turn around and return fire at the archers above on the rocks, hitting two. Several of the knights have charged the hill and are spilling goblin blood with great enthusiasm.
 
Things look like they are under control, so I share some of my simple healing magic with a few of the causalties.
 
Then I take stock of the others. Well, this is an interesting crowd. There is an elf, a guy who claims to be a minor noble, a bard who apparently was responsible for the thunder and screams, and a sorceror.
 
The knights turn out to be a household guards for the rather young Titus Caleti of Bruic, son of Lord Caleti of Bruic. He's on a mission, and decides to enlist us in his service.
Well, actually, he assumes we work for Verxatitus, the minor noble. A deal is hashed out where Titus gives Verxatitus a letter allowing him to operate his light infantry (us) with royal, or at least noble, authority.
 
Titus also mentions plenty of opportunity in Charlies army up north. No sir, I think I'll hang with Verxatitus and crew for now. We'll see if this proves sufficiently entertaining, and possibly profitable.
 
While Titus has several tasks he'd like done, the first would seem to be backtracking these goblins to their origin.
 
Best get at it while the trail is fresh.