Fallout:Blood and the Bull

Any opinion and comments are welcome

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We continued our journey south, traveling through roads and territories with relative ease. The number of armed men accompanying our caravan was enough to deter bandits, who preferred easier prey. Although we witnessed looting and robberies of less-protected caravans along the way, we did not intervene. Our objective was clear, and there was no room for unnecessary detours. During the journey, we stopped at several dungeons, taking every opportunity to replenish supplies and strengthen our provisions, until we finally reached the region dominated by the Free Cities.

The city we were heading toward was called Freimarkt, a name reflecting its origins as a place where merchants and artisans had found independence. From what I had heard, Freimarkt had purchased its freedom from a ruined feudal lord. This nobleman, burdened by debts due to poor gambling decisions at the coliseums, costly relationships with lovers, and consecutive disastrous harvests, was forced to sell the city to cover his obligations. A group of merchants and artisans pooled their resources to pay off the debt, securing control of Freimarkt and transforming it into a Free City officially recognized by the Empire, answering to no feudal lord.

Freimarkt was neither the largest nor the most powerful city in the region, but its strategic location in one of the most important trade valleys made it significant. However, its position also made it the center of an open conflict with three other Free Cities: Hochbruck, Flussdorf, and Brückenstadt. These cities, each with their own network of merchants, economic interests, and militias, were engaged in an unrelenting struggle for control of a single critical point: the Hochfluss Bridge.

The Hochfluss Bridge was no ordinary crossing. Situated over the region's most powerful river, controlling it meant dominating one of the main trade routes between the Free Cities and the rest of the Empire. Whoever controlled the bridge could deny passage to rival merchants, impose exorbitant tolls, and levy taxes, significantly altering the finances of neighboring cities. In short, controlling the bridge meant holding an economic and military advantage that could determine the region's future.

This ongoing conflict among Freimarkt, Hochbruck, Flussdorf, and Brückenstadt presented opportunities for those who knew how to exploit them. The open war between the cities kept their forces occupied, leaving peripheral routes and settlements exposed to swift and well-organized raids. For us, avoiding direct confrontations with larger militias or mercenary groups and focusing on these incursions was an obvious strategy.

As we neared Freimarkt, the differences became evident. The buzz of commerce filled the air, with caravans, riverboats, and merchants from all over the Empire moving through the city's ports and plazas. However, the tension was also palpable. The city walls were manned by armed and alert soldiers, and rumors of skirmishes and minor battles over control of the bridge were heard in every corner.

The guards at Freimarkt's entrance stopped us, their firm stances and scrutinizing looks making it clear that security was no mere formality. They carefully inspected our caravan, clearly wary of such a large and armed group. After a brief conversation and some checks, they informed me that only I and five of my men would be allowed to enter the city. The reasons were clear: they would not permit a potentially hostile and unknown armed contingent to cross their walls unsupervised.

Without showing any sign of annoyance, I accepted their conditions. I selected five of my most trusted men to accompany me, leaving clear instructions with the rest of the caravan to remain orderly and vigilant while we waited. The guards escorted us inside, and from the moment we entered, the city's energy became evident. The streets were alive: merchants haggling, artisans working in their shops, and messengers darting back and forth carrying news and orders. Yet soldiers were stationed at every corner, weapons at the ready, alert for any sign of trouble. Freimarkt wasn't just a hub of trade; it was a city that knew war could arrive at its gates at any moment.

After asking around at several locations and improvising connections with local merchants, I made my way to an office in the administrative district. Time felt like an enemy as I worked to ensure that the city council didn't see our arrival as mere coincidence. After two hours of persistence, patience, and a few well-placed coins, I finally secured an audience with one of the council members, Klaus Rechnen, the finance administrator.

When we entered the meeting room, it was clear Klaus had no time to waste. A middle-aged man with dark hair slicked back and a severe expression, he greeted us with a mix of curiosity and distrust. He was surrounded by stacks of documents and tablets filled with notes, and his calculating gaze made it clear he was evaluating every detail, from our attire to our intentions.

"Well?" he said bluntly as he took a seat behind a plain but well-crafted desk. "My aides mentioned you're interested in offering your services. Speak quickly; this city has too many urgent matters to waste time."

I stepped forward, letting my voice and presence dominate the room. "My name is Konrad," I said, my tone firm and devoid of unnecessary embellishment. "I lead a contingent of nearly nine hundred men. We are professional soldiers, disciplined and battle-tested. Every one of my men knows how to fight and follow orders."

Klaus Rechnen raised an eyebrow, his eyes analyzing every word, though his interest was evident. "Professional soldiers," he repeated, his tone measured. "That's a rarity around here. But tell me, konrad, what are you and your men looking for in Freimarkt? Our city is in a difficult situation, and we can't afford to waste resources on empty promises."

I held my firm stance, not yielding an inch. "We seek gold, yes, but also the freedom to plunder. Whatever we capture from Freimarkt's enemies will be ours. We're not here to drain this city's coffers but to offer a clear and mutually beneficial deal. You retain your forces and resources, while we weaken your enemies and secure our share."

Klaus drummed his fingers on the desk, his gaze fixed on me. "That's an ambitious proposal," he said slowly. "But tell me, what guarantees that you and your men can deliver on these promises? Freimarkt has dealt with many forces that call themselves professional, and most have failed to live up to their words."

My response was direct, my tone firm without arrogance. "We don't promise more than we can deliver. My men are not adventurers or passing mercenaries; they are soldiers proven in battle. We have faced scenarios where discipline and precision made the difference between life and death. We're not after glory or fleeting rewards—only clear, tangible results. If Freimarkt needs a force it can rely on, here we are."

Klaus nodded slowly, his calculating gaze unwavering. "I'll take this to the council," he finally said. "If they approve your proposal, you'll have your chance."

I gave a slight nod, my tone calm but full of certainty. "We won't fail," I assured him. "My men are ready to prove it."

The meeting with Klaus Rechnen ended quickly, leaving me time to reflect and plan. I didn't know how long it would take Freimarkt's council to decide whether to hire my services, but I knew I had to use every moment to strengthen my position and ensure my contingent was prepared for any eventuality.

We were no longer fighting the orcs and goblins of the north, brutal and cunning enemies. Instead of the imposing strength of an orc or the endless numbers of goblins, here we faced something far more dangerous: humans. Forces that could adapt to the battlefield, employ strategies similar to ours, and betray with a simple turn of intentions. This was a different challenge, one that demanded a new approach to waging war.

The first concern was rebuilding my numbers. Past campaigns and the march south had taken their toll. But here in the Free Cities, recruiting wasn't a simple option. These territories regulated and sold the privilege of recruitment, preventing any upstart noble from luring away young men with promises of gold and glory. If I wanted to bolster my ranks, there was only one viable option: slaves.

Slaves were a constant resource in these lands, and while they were not ready-made soldiers, they could be shaped into them. I sought young men, those who could be taught the martial arts and hardened through the same hellish training that had transformed my men into what they were today. Though rare, I knew that some slaves carried the warrior's blessing, an invaluable advantage in turning them into exceptional recruits. With these men, I could reinforce my ranks, provided the training was relentless and efficient.

But numbers alone weren't my only concern. Here, in a conflict where loyalties could shift with the wind and allies could stab you in the back, information was key. I needed more than brute strength; I needed eyes and ears in every corner. I needed spies. I needed frumentarii.

This task couldn't be entrusted to just any soldier. A frumentarii had to be sharper than the average recruit. They required quick, keen minds capable of reading situations and acting without hesitation. With the help of my centurions and decanus, I began searching among my men for those who showed a different kind of natural brilliance. We observed their responses to unusual situations, how they solved problems, and how they behaved under pressure.

Despite my expectations, the results were limited. Finding soldiers with the combination of intelligence and discretion needed to be frumentarii was no simple task. However, in the end, I selected ten men I deemed worthy of this responsibility. Each would be trained to be my eyes and ears—to infiltrate, observe, and report. Among them, I appointed a decanus frumentarii, a leader who would oversee the others and ensure their missions were carried out with precision.

The frumentarii would be essential in navigating the betrayals and power plays of these lands. Although they were few, this was an important step in the right direction. With a growing contingent, a plan to reinforce my ranks, and a network of spies in development, I was beginning to build the tools necessary to face this new kind of war.

As for my new "recruits," I had learned something during my time as one of the largest suppliers of "exotic goods" to the southern markets: it's always better to deal with the largest merchant available. In this case, that merchant was the Church.

The Church, with its vast scattered territories and endless ceremonies of purification and redemption, maintained a constant supply of human slaves. Whether for working their fields, maintaining their abbeys and monasteries, or simply to be released in some pompous charity ceremony meant to impress the faithful, the Church had access to more slaves than most merchants could dream of. It was no secret that their control over this "resource" was not just practical but lucrative. While they freed a few in theatrical gestures, they sold many others to fund their religious machinery.

So, when it came time to seek recruits to reinforce my ranks, I didn't look to local markets or small traders. I went straight to the largest and most reliable source: the Church.

The advantage was twofold. On one hand, the slaves they sold were often young and in decent condition, carefully selected from territories under their control. On the other, the price, while not low, was usually more reasonable than what other merchants charged, as the Church preferred to keep transactions flowing without raising too many suspicions about the scale of their business. It was a pragmatic operation disguised as charity, and I was more than willing to take advantage of it.

My "recruits" needed to be young, strong, and malleable. Some would be ordinary—fodder for the training and discipline that would turn them into soldiers. But occasionally, among them would be exceptional individuals, men with the warrior's blessing. These were rarities, and the Church knew it, pricing them higher. Even so, they were worth the investment. Once trained, these men would become pillars of my contingent, their natural ability complemented by the brutal regimen that had hardened my current soldiers.

When I approached the Church's appointed merchant in the region, his smile was that of a man who knew he was dealing with an important client. "Ah, a man of business," he said, his tone oily with the confidence of someone used to closing deals. "I'm sure we'll find what you're looking for. We have an excellent lot, brought from the southern domains. Strong young men, ideal for any task… or purpose."

I inspected the "inventory" presented to me, carefully evaluating each man. Those who showed the necessary strength and potential were selected.

Finally, I closed the deal, ensuring the price was fair and that the "recruits" would be transported under my supervision.

These men, though currently bound in chains, would soon find purpose. Under the relentless training of my centurions and decanus, they would become professional soldiers, hardened by the same crucible that had transformed the others. The machine I was building needed fresh blood, and the Church, with its steady supply of slaves, had just provided me with exactly what I needed

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Any opinion and comments are welcome