"There's many reasons why survivors of decimated units might want to return to battle, even when by rights they were allowed to withdraw. Some do it for revenge. Others for achievements and potential fame.

But the most common feeling of all amongst such people… was the itch of a job left undone." - Kezia Naldevar, retired mercenary sergeant, formerly of the Hoff's Harassers mercenary company.

A rowdy, spontaneous celebration broke out in the ruins that morning. One filled with a jubilant mood and many joyful tears. The dwarves broke out many barrels of good ale which they had amongst their rations for use in victory celebrations, enough for everyone present to have a good drink, but not to the point of inebriation.

Mercenaries and regular alike all joined together in jubilation. Even the more recent arrivals like the dwarven cavalrymen and their healer contingent joined in, despite not being affected directly by the event.

Reinhardt spied the old dwarven matron who had first healed him, Frigg, drinking while complaining how the Silver Maiden had just basically rendered her whole group irrelevant. Her grumbling was more of a good natured one, though also laced with a touch of envy and frustration, as a healer of advanced age who was unlikely to improve much more in life.

Most of the rest were just all too happy to celebrate their recovery. Two men who had lost their arms were arm wrestling each other while laughing their hearts out with their recovered arms. Others hugged friends and loved ones they'd almost given up on.

Even Reinhardt spent a good bit of time with his adoptive father. The injury and subsequent treatment seemed to leave no side effects on Hogarth. He just couldn't remember a thing between the time he took the hit to his head and waking up, but that was to be expected since he was unconscious all that time.

The revelry continued until noontime, where they held a feast for lunch, the good rations they saved up brought out. Some fresh meat to be grilled were shared around by the dwarves, while the mercenaries shared some preserved meats and fruits of theirs in turn.

When the pork hit the makeshift grills and the aroma wafted through the surroundings, some of the younger human members looked as if they were about to throw up. Reinhardt had not blamed them, considering how similar burnt humans smell to pork.

That stench still lingered in the surroundings, an undertone to the smoky smell that still pervaded even a day after the pyre burned out.

Not that it bothered Reinhardt - or Erycea for that matter - as they tucked into the sumptuous meal placed before them. Similarly, most of the veteran mercenaries ate unbothered, as it was mostly the younger humans amongst them that squirmed a bit at the smell.

After the feast, everybody retired back to their dwellings. They were to stay put while they waited for the main force's arrival, but otherwise there was no specific instruction from the Graf. Reinhardt took the chance and gathered everyone relevant from the Free Lances for an impromptu meeting.

One that would decide their immediate future.

The same eight people who had attended the meeting when they agreed to put him in charge were present, with a single addition: Mischka, the bear-therian matron who had worked with them throughout the siege.

Stolen novel; please report.

This time they met inside a large tent, as Mischka's large size meant she would have serious difficulty fitting inside most doors and buildings in the area, as they were built for human use. Even seated on the floor, the matron was taller than Reinhardt standing at his full height, and nearly twice as broad too.

"You all know why we're all here," said Reinhardt as he opened the meeting. "Though before we delve deeper, I would like to ask Mischka something first."

"I assume about what my folks will be doing now that the battle's over?" asked the imposing therian matron with a gentle - or as gentle as her naturally fierce expression could get - smile, to which Reinhardt nodded. "You and yours fought well by our side. If you plan to forge ahead, we'd like to come with you."

"Of course, should you decide to turn back instead, we'd probably be looking for employment off the old dwarf instead," she added, referring to Barnaby. "My people and I would like to see this conflict through, to the very end. One way or another."

"Thanks for the honesty," replied Reinhardt as he turned his eyes to look at the rest of the gathered people. He noticed Grünhildr nodding in agreement, but that was expected from the battle maniac. Everyone else looked mostly ambivalent. "In which case, we should decide what we are going to do, going forward."

"How many do we have left?" asked Ursula, concern evident in the old woman's voice. It was an understandable concern, as besides being a cook, the old woman was also one of their few midwives. She had personally aided the birth of many in the company, and had always grieved for their losses.

Now over three-fourths of the company was gone, one of her several grandchildren included.

"Counting Mischka's group? We have just shy of two hundred seventy," said Reinhardt honestly. "That had not included the volunteers, if we count those who are good at fighting amongst them, we have just over three hundred in total."

"You can count on us, at least for this campaign," said Ylisera in support, to which Reinhardt gave a thankful nod. "Some might be sticking around for later campaigns as well, assuming we make it out of this one in reasonable shape."

"How's our finances, lad?" asked Hogarth from the side. As the company's master blacksmith he was quite involved with the finances, since it linked to his work, and his late wife used to handle their accounts to boot. "We have a lot of compensation to pay with all the families of the deceased."

"On that front, we're actually pretty well off," replied Reinhardt with a slight smile. "The full salvage rights uncle Angus gave us extended to the battle just now, so once all those are converted to usable cash, we'd have more than enough for all the compensations, with a good bit of leftover."

"That's one tangle out of the beard at least," said the old dwarf with a nod. "Normally a company hit so badly like we've been would've pulled back, if not disbanded right away. I think you're considering something different, though. Are you not?"

"Has we been in the state we were two days ago, I'd have seriously considered withdrawing from this campaign and maybe restart with what few we have left, if any," admitted Reinhardt honestly to the gathered people. "But all that changed yesterday. With the main force's arrival we likely won't have much of a role to play at Fort Prydwen, but we might earn ourselves a good deal at Zefirous, should Friede's contacts still be active."

"I'm not a fighter, so that's a decision the fighting ones ought to make. We'll just follow behind you," replied the old dwarf, to which Ursula nodded in agreement.

"We'll follow your decision either way," said Ylisera from her seat with a smile. Nicole echoed the surviving scouts' similar sentiment to the matter.

"What are the chances of your old friends still being active and in a position where they could be of use?" Salicia asked as she looked at her old friend with her one good eye. The woman had always been the more pragmatic one of their group, when it was just the three of them.

"I'd say decent, likely better than even odds. Varsha was a smart and ruthless bitch. Unless someone new toppled her in the decade I've been gone she should still be in charge," replied Elfriede to her old friend. "And knowing her, she'd likely smother any such threat in the cradle."

"It's a gamble… but one with high payout and decent odds. Very well then, count me in as well," replied the female archer with a nod of agreement. "I guess that makes us pretty unanimous huh… boss?"

"I still can't get used to being called that," said Reinhardt with a self-deprecating smile. He then looked at Mischka before he continued. "Though I guess I better get used to it. I guess all that's left is to talk about how we'll handle pay and compensation with your people?"

"We won't mind the same rates we had with the Legion for the duration of this campaign," said the matron. It was a generous gesture, as the Legion's pay was notably less than what the Free Lances offered their people. "To be renegotiated at the end of the campaign, or when we went our separate ways, should it come to that."

"Well bargained and done," he said as he shook the matron's hand and sealed the deal.