Fallout:Blood and the Bull

Any opinion and comments are welcome

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"They showed fear, panicked quickly, and simply stood frozen when we presented ourselves," said one of the decanus who had led the group inside the dungeon. His tone carried a faint disdain, as if he considered the southern creatures little more than a nuisance. "They lack the ferocity of mana-corrupted monsters. They don't have that frenzied desperation we found in the north, that madness driving them to attack no matter the odds. These things retreat when they see enough strength. Yet..." He paused, briefly glancing at the captured creatures and the merchants hovering nearby, "there are still fools who die to these things."

My eyes fixed on him as he finished speaking. There was something in his words that reflected more than a simple comparison—it was a statement that also judged the adventurers who approached these places as if they were open markets, lacking the discipline and preparation of my men. I listened without interruption, letting the weight of his words sink in among the officers and legionaries nearby.

"And the materials?" I asked finally, shifting my attention to the spoils they had brought.

"They're valuable, without a doubt," the decanus replied, nodding toward the captured creatures as he crossed his arms. "The scales of this reptile are as tough as bronze but far lighter. Perfect for armor or reinforcements if worked properly. Its fangs also have potential—could be used as spearheads or daggers if processed correctly. The pelts of those other beasts..." His eyes wandered to the carcasses and the still-living animals struggling against their restraints. "They're thick and durable, ideal for light armor or protective cloaks. The merchants know this, which is why they tried to convince us they're worth nothing."

He paused, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Their way of negotiating reflects who they are—spineless opportunists. They tried to make us believe these creatures were worthless, but the way they eyed every part of what we brought said otherwise. They lack the discipline to obtain this themselves, so they try to take advantage of those who do."

"Well, you brought them in alive," I said as my gaze swept over the captured creatures, particularly the black-scaled reptile still struggling against its bonds. Its scales gleamed under the light, and its fangs jutted out like daggers poised to tear. "And we all know how the nobles of these regions are. They always find a way to pay handsomely for live toys to amuse themselves or display at their banquets." I paused, letting my words settle among the gathered officers. "If these creatures truly pose no danger outside their dungeon, then there's no reason to let this opportunity go to waste."

I turned my attention to the centurions awaiting orders, their posture reflecting the discipline of those familiar with my leadership style. "Centurions, ready your centuries," I commanded, my tone firm but calm. "These beasts aren't the mana-corrupted horrors we faced in the north, but that doesn't mean they're harmless. However, if we can control them as you did today, there's no reason to stop here. Let's seize this opportunity to gather materials—and, more importantly, coin."

The officers exchanged swift glances, grasping the weight of the order. "With sufficient funds," I continued, "we can secure our operations in the Free Cities."

The decanus who had returned from the dungeon nodded, ready to lead his men back inside. His expression showed no hesitation, only determination. While the centurions organized their troops, I approached the captured reptile, examining it once more. Its scales, as tough as bronze, were something a skilled artisan could turn into light armor or even luxurious decorations for southern nobles. The creature's eyes locked onto mine, filled with rage but also a palpable fear.

"Alive or dead, these monsters have a price," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. "And we will decide that price—not these mediocre merchants."

As the legionaries formed up and the scouts began to secure the area against any surprises, some merchants approached with renewed interest, having overheard my orders. Their intentions were as transparent as they were futile, aiming to get ahead in any future negotiations. I ignored them for now, focusing on the immediate plans.

"Centurions," I ordered, "hunt what we can use or sell. Don't risk the men unnecessarily, but ensure we bring back enough to justify each foray."

The centuries began to move, entering the dungeon with the same discipline they would bring to any campaign. As I watched them disappear into the interior's darkness, my mind was already calculating the potential benefits this venture could bring.

Hours passed as we awaited the return of our men from the dungeon. The camp remained as lively as before, but the atmosphere had shifted. As time went on, murmurs of discontent grew among the adventurers coming and going.

It didn't take long to catch snippets of their conversations, words laden with complaints and frustration. "There's nothing left in there," grumbled one of them, a man in battered armor with an axe slung over his shoulder. "How are we supposed to do anything when they're hunting everything that moves?"

Another, younger and less experienced, replied bitterly, "They say it's because some noble is sending his people. Who knows? Probably wants to capture something rare to show off or decorate his banquet hall."

I listened from my position without reacting. Their words, though indirect, struck close to the truth. While we weren't exactly "noblemen's men," our organized and methodical incursions into the dungeon had disrupted the balance of this place. Where the adventurers operated chaotically, we moved with precision, systematically hunting and leaving little for the rest. And while the adventurers seemed unaware of our exact identity, their discontent was growing.

As the complaints intensified, I noticed some adventurers casting furtive, distrustful glances our way, their eyes filled with resentment. To them, we were a threat to their way of life—a group systematically stripping the resources they usually shared, even if chaotically. The camp's noise began to swell, with some adventurers even arguing amongst themselves over who was to blame for their failing expeditions.

My officers remained vigilant, some resting their hands on the hilts of their swords. I didn't need to give orders for them to know that the growing tension could become a problem if left unchecked. This place was full of opportunists, and frustration could quickly spark danger if not managed carefully.

Finally, one of my scouts approached to inform me. "Sir, the rumors are spreading quickly. They believe someone powerful is taking everything inside. Some are even talking about confronting the supposed culprit." His words were a reminder that while we had the advantage of discipline and organization, these adventurers still outnumbered us.

"Let them talk," I said, my tone low but laden with authority. "If they want to complain, let them. But if anyone dares act against us, there will be no mercy. This is not a game for us, and we don't have time to coddle their wounded egos."

The scout nodded and withdrew, while my eyes returned to the bustle of the camp. Though I wasn't concerned about the noise they made, I couldn't ignore the fact that their frustration could turn into a real problem if not handled carefully. These adventurers might be disorganized and undisciplined, but desperation had a way of making even the weakest act recklessly.

As the shadows lengthened and day began to turn to night, I kept my watchful gaze on the camp, waiting for my men to return. The complaints of the adventurers continued, with some even making louder remarks about the "arrogance of nobles." While I couldn't care less about their opinions, it was clear that our presence had disrupted the delicate balance of this place.

Finally, the centuries began to emerge from the dungeon, the sound of their firm, disciplined steps announcing their return. At the front, the decanus led with the same precision they'd shown upon entering, while the legionaries followed behind, bearing the fruits of their efforts. The display was impressive: dozens of beasts captured, many still alive, thrashing and roaring against their bonds, while others, lifeless, were carefully transported to preserve their bodies. Each of my men had acted with near-surgical precision, and it was evident that their experience capturing orcs and goblins had been key.

The restraints were secure, the makeshift cages well-constructed, and the living creatures, though furious, had no chance of escape. One creature in particular, a massive reptile with scales gleaming like burnished copper, let out a piercing screech as it was dragged by several men. Other beasts, smaller but no less impressive, growled or howled, their eyes filled with rage and fear. Each capture was a testament to my men's skill—not only in hunting but in ensuring their prey was brought back intact.

I watched as the men deposited their spoils in the designated area, each working with the same meticulous care as during a military campaign. There was no chaos, no disarray in their movements. Everything was calculated, from how they handled the live creatures to how they arranged the corpses of the slain. Even the makeshift cages had been built with surprising precision, something many of the camp's adventurers observed with a mix of disbelief and envy.

"Well done," I said to the decanus, my voice firm but carrying a hint of approval. "It seems all that time hunting orcs and goblins in the north served more purposes than just filling slave carts. Now show these people how things are done properly."

As I observed the reactions of the adventurers, I noticed that many were stunned by the sheer number of creatures we'd brought out. The complaints and murmurs that had filled the camp hours earlier had transformed into an uncomfortable silence. Some stared at us with resentment, others with quiet admiration. I could feel the tension in the air, but it didn't concern me. The discipline and strength demonstrated by my men were more than enough to deter any challenge.

"Centurions," I called, addressing the officers awaiting orders. "Sort everything. Materials suitable for armor or weapons are to be separated immediately. The live creatures will be evaluated for their worth, and the dead ones prepared for sale. I want no delays."

The officers quickly moved into action, organizing their men to process the spoils with the same efficiency they'd shown in capturing them. Meanwhile, local merchants, drawn by the spectacle, cautiously approached, their eyes greedily appraising the captured beasts. I could tell they were calculating the value of each creature, but I wasn't about to let them take advantage.

"Seems we've done more in a few hours than some of these adventurers manage in weeks," I muttered, more to myself than the nearby officers. My gaze drifted to the merchants as they began to approach with offers and negotiations, their greed palpable. This place, full of chaos and disorder, now bowed to our organization and control.

My men continued working with the same precision that had allowed them to capture these beasts.

We sold a large portion of the dead animals, fetching a high price for them. I had paid close attention to the earlier negotiations and listened to the merchants' murmurs, allowing me to better understand the true value of these beasts. Capturing them in such pristine condition was rare, primarily because it required surgical precision: killing the animal with a single blow without damaging valuable parts such as pelts, fangs, or flesh. My men, seasoned in capturing orcs and goblins for slavery, had demonstrated impeccable skill in this task.

The quality of the beasts and their excellent condition caused a stir among the local merchants, who competed fiercely for the best specimens. Their offers quickly escalated, and with cold, calculated negotiation, I ensured that every deal was in our favor. I didn't allow any transaction to occur without my oversight or that of my most trusted officers. I knew this region was full of opportunists, but our discipline made it clear that we were not ordinary adventurers to be easily deceived.

In addition to gold, many merchants offered trade goods, particularly provisions. I learned that the animals we had hunted were a key part of the local diet, giving them not only economic value but also making them essential for survival in these lands. With that in mind, I accepted deals that included dried and salted meat, ensuring our caravan had more than enough supplies to continue south without relying on other camps or markets.

The live animals, however, were not sold. I knew they could fetch far higher prices further south, where wealthier nobles and merchants would covet them as trophies or for private spectacles. The most exotic beasts would be held back to secure greater profits—or to ensure our place in the conversations of the Free Cities' elites. The captured monsters were a symbol of what we were capable of, and I wouldn't waste that opportunity.

By the end of the day, the caravan was better provisioned than ever. We had enough gold to face whatever lay ahead and supplies for weeks. My men were in high spirits.

With everything secured, I gave the order to prepare the caravan to continue south. I knew there was still a long journey ahead, but each step we took brought us farther from the Marquis's domains and closer to a future no one else could control.

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Any opinion and comments are welcome