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The Ninth Bio of Christmas

Posted December 26th, 2012 at 11:59 PM by ZBeeblebrox

On the Ninth Day of Christmas the C3V Gave to the Fans ...

9 Emptied Tankards



Martial La Hire sits in the Taverne de la Licorne, drinking away his pain. His head begins to droop; he ignores the noise outside. He registers it, faintly, but it is not important. His eyes drift closed, his mind flashing with painful images. Flash. His friend Aristide cut down before his eyes. Flash. His wife, first screaming, then whimpering--then silent. Flash. His village on fire. It is so real--he can almost hear the running feet, can almost smell the burning pine.

The smoke is now burning his nose, and the running is pounding in his ears. What the ... ?

He jolts awake, prepared for the worst. He did not want to wake up in a burning tavern. Not again.

His eyes begin to focus on the scene around him. The noise is coming from outside, as is the smell. The villagers are preparing for something. Something he knows all too well: a raid.

He hears shouting from outside. "Run! The dragoons are coming! To arms, to arms!"

La Hire downs his tankard before lurching toward the door. Each step is more controlled than the last; years of training are overcoming the substantial amount of alcohol in his system. By the time the bright sun hits his eyes, he is ready to fight.

Martial gazes around, assessing the situation. The local militia is setting their spears for a charge at the end of the road. Other townsfolk are pushing over carts to block some of the paths into the village.

Indifferent to the panic overtaking the villagers, Martial begins to move through the men. He waves vaguely at them as he passes by. "Good idea, men." Hiccough. "Well done."

"You there! Where are you going?" shouts the local sergeant. "There will be enough blood on the ground in a few minutes without adding the guts of a worthless drunk to the mess."

"Crétin! I will protect the town." The sergeant snorts at this, but has too much to oversee to invest much effort. Martial faces the advancing enemy, raising one of his swords up between his eyes in a salute. Under his breath, he murmurs: "Clémence, the fates will decide if I am with you tonight."

And then Martial La Hire charges into the advancing line of twenty dragoon raiders with an animal yell.

Dust, sun flashing off twin swords, screaming men. The sergeant squints, expecting to see this drunk become the village's first offering to the dragoon raid. Instead, when the dust settles: a broken bottle, nine stunned men, nearly paralyzed by the carnage ... and eleven corpses.

The sergeant quickly rallies the villagers; they charge toward the remaining marauders, spurred by love of family and home. The distracted dragoons are quickly overcome by the wave of angry villagers that erupts from the town. Sword and shield fall this day to pitchfork and axe, ruthlessness beaten back by patriotic fervor.

The village of Charroux successfully defended their homes that day, but Martial La Hire was never seen again. The stories began that very night: forever after, the villagers told of a brave man, rescued from the pain of battle and carried into the sky by an angel. Though they know not how, generations of Charroux's children believe that La Hire is finally with his wife.

Stay Tuned for the Tenth Bio of Christmas coming soon.

Spoiler Alert!

Happy Holidays from all of us at the C3V!


C3V Promotions Director
Total Comments 4


capsocrates's Avatar
I like this bio quite a bit--it helps that La Hire has been one of my favorites since I playtested him.
Posted December 27th, 2012 at 12:46 AM by capsocrates capsocrates is offline
orgsbane's Avatar
Very nice! My favorite one yet!
Posted December 27th, 2012 at 08:16 AM by orgsbane orgsbane is offline
chas's Avatar
Merci, mon vieux!
Posted December 27th, 2012 at 01:54 PM by chas chas is offline
DeathDoom's Avatar
Posted December 29th, 2012 at 12:06 PM by DeathDoom DeathDoom is offline
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