“Often the hardest part of being a commander is to read over the list of people you had lost in a battle, with the knowledge that all those men and women died in an attempt to carry out your command, and that part of the responsibility for their deaths lied with you.” - Attributed to a quote from the diary of Uvela Welo-Sabare, famed general from Posuin, circa 409-458 VA.

“So how’s things with the young Duke, Boss?” asked Lars when he saw Reinhardt enter his tent later that evening. Lars’ tent doubled as the logistical office for the Company whenever they were not on the move, as he had been acting as their chief logistical officer as well. “Payment all as promised? Any issues we need to keep in mind?”

The entire army had continued their march for a couple more days into Algenverr territory, before they stopped by the great wall. There, they were met with a large crew of support personnel that Nestor had summoned to help take care of the tens of thousands of former slaves they brought with them. The army itself along with the mercenaries camped around them to provide security and keep the order.

“Every single coin he promised, and then some as bonus for the role we played in the victory,” said Reinhardt, who had just returned from the Nestor’s office to settle the company’s payment. That Nestor not only paid them every coin he owed, but also added a bonus was something that naturally delighted the mercenaries. “How’s things on your end? Got a final tally on the butcher’s bill yet?”

“Yeah, that came in earlier this afternoon, just after you left, actually,” replied Lars. Most every battle would result in at least some losses, and given the contracts the company offered their members, those losses were eligible for reimbursement, either in the form of extra hazard pay for those who were injured badly, condolences money to the family of those who passed away, or the requisite negotiations for ending the contract with those who wanted to look for a safer way of living.

“So, how bad was it?” Reinhardt asked, his head tilted slightly to the side in curiosity. “Shouldn’t be that bad from what I could see of our injured, but I don’t know about the rest.”

“A total of ninety-four deaths, crippling injuries, or resignations,” reported Lars openly. It was a loss of nearly a tenth of the company’s numbers, but one they could take given their present size. “Nearly half the company are sidelined with lighter injuries too. Half of those would be out for another month or more, the rest likely could fight if there were any emergencies, but should ideally have proper rest for another week or two.”

“Not as bad as I expected. We should have plenty to cover the hazard and condolences pay, right?” replied Reinhardt with a nod of his head. “We got extras off the payment, then there’s the salvage we got to keep, that amounts to a pretty good bit of coin, I’d say. Our coffers still had a good amount of savings too, last I checked.”

“Correct on all counts, boss. We won’t be having any issues paying the condolence fees, and we got enough in the coffers for nearly four years of operation assuming we maintain our numbers and did not take on any missions during that time,” said Lars as he exchanged nods with Reinhardt. “We’re in good shape and shouldn’t have any financial issues for a good while, I’d say.”

“That’s good. We might need to make use of those savings in the near future,” said Reinhardt with a satisfied sigh. “Nestor confided in me that he expected the civil war to settle down over the next few years, so after our contract runs out next year, I plan to take the company back to Knallzog for a round of rest and relaxation. We’ll run a few recruitment drives and refit our gear, while we’re there.”

“A good call. We can always return and offer our services if things heat up once more over here,” said Lars in reply, then he clicked his fingers as if he just recalled something. “Ah, right, boss. About the recruitment, I’ve got something that needs your attention.”

“Oh? The former slaves? Hadn’t expected that much out of them, but since you said something needs my attention, I guess something unexpected happened, huh?” asked Reinhardt with some curiosity in his voice. “Judging from the way you said it, I don’t think it’s anything unpleasant either, so what good news do you have about it?”

“We got a little over two hundred recruits who passed the assessment and wanted to be combatant, around double that in others who wished to join in a more auxiliary capacity or were dependents of the combatant recruits,” reported Lars with a smirk on his face.

“That’s definitely a whole order of magnitude over my expectations, all right,” admitted Reinhardt with some surprise. “Any idea what attracted so many of them to us?”

“In fact, I do,” answered Lars with a teasing grin. “Amongst those recruits were seventy-three who were formerly of the Order of the Warforged. Four of them were Blademasters, and the rest were all full-fledged members as well. When they and their families came to the recruitment booth, it attracted quite a few others, and the only reason we didn’t take more is because not that many passed the assessment.”

“That’s… quite a lot of them. Any specific reason they mentioned? I’d have thought Nestor’s offer would be more lucrative for Warforged like them,” said Reinhardt after he gave an impressed whistle. While his company had cut their way through the Warforged, he respected their skill, and knew that their loss was mostly due to inexperience, as they never trained to deal with non-human opponents.

“Get this, boss. All those Warforged were survivors of the units we ran over. Apparently they respect our strength and wished to be allowed to join so as to learn from us. When we made it clear that they would be paid and their family members also given room in our caravan, they signed right on the spot,” elaborated Lars with some pride in his voice. “All of them easily passed the assessment too, of course. Most of them are younger ones, so they’ll likely be more malleable and receptive to adapting to our tactics.”