When I got caught liberating some food in the market and had to run for my life, I ducked into Kosta’s tent.
Of course he went into his recruitment spiel. Kosta was always looking for recruits.
I went along with it, biding time until my pursuers lost interest.
Kosta wasn’t impressed when I had to borrow a sword to show my skill with weapons.
But it was a slow day, so he pressed my thumb print on the contract.
Being a mercenary isn’t a bad career.
But I expected to be turned into a fighting man, not a bloody Centaur.