The wagon train of the Company of the Golden Boar came to a halt two miles outside Pravend, near a sprawling crossroads trading post.
Captain Rodrik's men were in no rush to enter the village proper. Instead, the mercenaries set up a temporary roadside market, dumping stacks of looted Sturgian axes, dented helmets, and torn chainmail onto makeshift wooden tables. Local traders and traveling blacksmiths from the surrounding hamlets had already gathered, eager to buy cheap scraps from the mercenaries.
Jade called his group over to a quiet spot beside a supply wagon.
"Before we go back to the village and hand money over to our families, we need to talk," Jade said, leaning against his short spear. "We just survived a siege by pure luck and accelerated healing. If we get caught in another fight like that with our current setup, we are dead."
Numerius sat on a crate, wiping dirt from his heavy club. "What do you mean? We leveled up to Level 4. We got perks."
"And we almost died five times over," Yuzon said, getting the point immediately. "Jade is right. We played Bannerlord as a game, but here, our party composition has massive holes."
Jade pulled up his mental notes, organizing their strengths and weaknesses like he used to do before launching a campaign.
"Look at how we fought," Jade said. "First, Numerius. You have high Vigor and heavy Two-Handed damage, but you have zero defense. In narrow corridors or against archers, you are a huge target with no shield. You need a way to protect yourself when closing the distance."
Numerius shrugged, though he did not argue. "I like swinging big weapons, but yeah, catching arrows with my chest sucked."
"Second, Yuzon," Jade continued. "You are our primary ranged damage with the bow, but the second your bow broke on the wall, you were forced into melee with a cheap borrowed sword you barely knew how to use. You need a proper sidearm and a secondary melee weapon built for close quarters."
Yuzon nodded. "Agreed. A short sword or arming blade."
"Third, Mataranas," Jade turned to the big guy. "You are our wall, but relying on a wooden shield against heavy Sturgian axes almost got your arm broken permanently. You need a reinforced metal shield and a weapon that hits harder than a basic club when enemies crowd your space, like a mace."
Mataranas, his broken arm resting in a clean sling, nodded. "A mace works," he said softly. "It crushes heavy armor."
"Fourth, Nathaniel," Jade looked at him.
Nathaniel winced, touching his bandaged nose. "I know, I know. I am useless in a fight."
"You are not useless, but forcing you into front-line melee is a death sentence," Jade said. "Your strength isn't Vigor, it's Social and Cunning. You have Trade at 35. You shouldn't be swinging swords at all unless someone gets past us. You need a light crossbow so you can stay in the back and contribute damage safely without getting mauled."
Nathaniel let out a breath of relief. "A crossbow? I can do that. Point and pull a trigger. I can definitely do that."
"And finally, myself," Jade said. "My Polearm skill is high, but in tight indoor spaces, a long spear gets clunky. I need a solid one-handed weapon and a side shield for when the formation breaks."
Jade looked at the group. "We have 60 denars each. That's 300 denars total if we pool our funds. We use part of it right now at these mercenary tables before we enter Pravend. And Nathaniel is going to do all the talking."
Nathaniel perked up, a faint grin breaking through his bruised face. "Trade 35 at work? Leave it to me."
They walked over to the mercenary trade tables where a grizzled Vlandian quartermaster named Master Osric was hawking captured gear. Osric had a thick grey beard, a scarred cheek, and an expression that suggested he hated everyone who did not have coins in hand.
Nathaniel stepped forward, rolling back his shoulders despite his bruised ribs. His bandaged face gave him a battered, dangerous look, but his stance was all business.
"Greetings, Master Quartermaster," Nathaniel said, his tone casual and friendly.
Osric glanced up from a stack of Sturgian shields, squinting at Nathaniel's bandaged nose. "You are the militia boy from the keep. What do you want? I am busy loading wagons."
"We are looking to outfit our unit," Nathaniel said, gesturing toward the pile of iron weapons and shields behind Osric. "And we have silver."
Osric's sharp eyes flicked to the leather coin pouch at Nathaniel's belt. "Silver talks. What are you looking at?"
Nathaniel walked along the table, casually picking up an iron-banded mace, turning it over, and setting it down with a slight frown. "This iron is rough. Sturgian forge work. The balance is heavy on the head and the leather grip is already frayed."
"It's battle tested steel," Osric grunted. "Thirty denars for the mace. Fifteen for the kite shield. Twelve for the arming sword. The crossbow is thirty-five. That's hundred and sixty denars for the lot you're looking at, boy."
Numerius leaned toward Yuzon and whispered, "Hundred and sixty? That's half our gold."
Yuzon nudged him. "Let Nat cook."
Nathaniel let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Hundred and sixty? Master Osric, please. I know Captain Rodrik is eager to clear out these heavy wagons before you march east. You have three more carts of salvaged scrap behind you, and local village blacksmiths aren't going to pay more than ten denars a piece for dented iron."
Osric narrowed his eyes. "This isn't scrap. It's functional gear."
"Functional, but blood stained and needing hours at the anvil," Nathaniel replied smoothly, stepping closer. "We held the inner keep alongside your third company. We bled in the same hallway. Now, I can give you hundred denars cash right now, hard silver, no waiting for local blacksmiths to scrimp together copper. You lighten your wagon load, and Captain Rodrik gets his carts moving an hour earlier."
Osric scoffed, crossing his thick arms. "Hundred? You are robbing me. Hundred and forty, or you can go buy pitchforks in Pravend."
"Hundred and ten," Nathaniel countered instantly, leaning on the table with a confident grin. "And I won't mention to Captain Rodrik that you are holding up the convoy over a few pieces of dented Sturgian iron."
Osric stared at Nathaniel for a long five seconds. He looked at the heavy stack of iron on his table, then down at Nathaniel's calm, unblinking eyes. A slow, reluctant grunt escaped the old quartermaster's throat.
"Hundred and twenty," Osric growled, slamming his palm onto the table. "Not a copper less. Take it or get out of my sight."
Nathaniel smiled, pulling twelve silver coins from his belt pouch and stacking them on the table. "Hundred and twenty it is. Pleasure doing business with you, Master Osric."
Osric swept the silver into his pouch with a grunt, though a faint twitch of respect showed in his eyes. "You have a sharp tongue for a militia boy. Get your gear and get out of here."
Numerius stared as they carried the stack of gear back to their supply wagon. "Dude. You saved us forty denars. That was awesome."
"That is Trade 35 and a business degree," Nathaniel said, dusting off his leather jack with a proud grin. "Never pay sticker price in a medieval market."
Using the hundred and twenty denars from their combined pool, they strapped on their new gear.
For Numerius, they slung the sturdy Vlandian iron kite shield across his back, giving him passive protection against archers while he wielded his heavy club, along with the iron-banded mace for close quarters.
For Yuzon, they secured the well-crafted hunting bow with a reinforced grip, two full quivers of broadhead arrows, and the balanced steel arming sword as his dedicated sidearm.
For Mataranas, they picked up the heavy, metal-rimmed cavalry shield capable of taking heavy axe blows, paired with a solid iron flange mace designed to crush armored targets.
For Nathaniel, they assembled the light Vlandian crossbow with a simple lever-crank, a bolt quiver, and the padded leather jack for basic protection.
For Jade, they strapped on the short steel arming sword to complement his spear, along with the light wooden round shield for tight space fighting.
When they finished equipping the new gear, Jade checked their status. Their group looked completely transformed. They were no longer a ragtag bunch of peasants carrying farm tools; they looked like a proper, well-balanced mercenary squad.
[Party Composition Updated]
Jade - Vanguard / Polearm and Sword (Leader)
Mataranas - Main Tank / Heavy Shield and Mace
Numerius - Shock Trooper / Two-Handed and Back-Shield
Yuzon - Marksman / Bow and Arming Sword
Nathaniel - Support / Light Crossbow and Quartermaster
As they admired their new equipment, heavy boots crunched against the gravel behind them.
Captain Rodrik walked over, his armored warhorse snorting nearby. The mercenary leader looked them up and down, taking in their newly fitted shields, the crossbow on Nathaniel's back, and the quiet, disciplined way they held themselves.
"Look at you lot," Rodrik said, a faint, approving smirk on his scarred face. "From farm boys flailing with pitchforks to a proper squad in three weeks. Master Osric tells me your friend here bargained him down like an Imperial guildmaster."
Nathaniel grinned. "Just looking out for our company's silver, Captain."
Rodrik chuckled, then his eyes turned serious as he looked at Jade. "We make camp on the road outside Pravend for two days to rest the horses before we march east toward the Imperial border. If you boys go back to your village and realize farming turnips feels too small after what you survived, my offer stands. The Golden Boar always has room for fighters who do not break under pressure."
Jade nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Captain. We will think on it."
"Do that," Rodrik said, turning back toward his command tent. "A man who tastes steel rarely enjoys holding a plow again."
"Now," Jade said, slinging his new shield over his shoulder. "We look like a real unit."
They turned away from the roadside market, ready to head down the dirt road toward Pravend.