As they left the slavers’ fort, the sunset, casting an orange glow across the sky, the group made their way down a winding path with military discipline, only the sounds of their horses apparent in the night's stillness. In a few hours, they could see the glow of lights and hear the sounds of a bustling city.

As they approached the Blackmarket, the city-state came into view. The walls towered above them, tall and imposing, with guards standing watch at the gates. The smell of smoke and spices filled the air, as the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and musicians playing their instruments drifted through the streets.

The group passed through the gates, and the noise of the city surrounded them, as well as streets packed with people, from wealthy merchants to street urchins, each going about their business. The buildings were tall and close together, with signs hanging above doorways, advertising goods and services.

As they entered the Central district of the Blackmarket, the sheer number and variety of people struck them. The district was a bustling hub of activity, filled with merchants, slavers, traders, and bandits, among others who were likely up to no good. The towering castle of the black market ruler sat at the center of the district, a constant reminder of the power and influence that ruled over this place.

Bloud scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Alas, my desire to experience the Gambling Den shall remain unfulfilled, for it is regrettably closed until next year.”

Vasos suggested, “Listen, Majesty, I got an idea. Why not hire a bunch of sneaky bandits to beef up our forces? We won’t have to risk our own lads when there are other options on the table.”

Alexander nodded in agreement. “Using the banditry to restore order on the streets. Thou art mad or genius.”

The mercenary post is a large, fortified building. It has high walls made of thick stone, with guard towers in each corner. As they approached the mercenary post, King Alexander and his entourage could see the large wooden gate blocking their way. Armed men stood guard on either side, their eyes scanning the approaching group with suspicion.

The king took a deep breath and stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “We seek stalwart men to join our ranks and lend their aid in our noble quest,” he called out.

The guards narrowed their eyes, clearly skeptical. One man stepped forward, a grizzled veteran with scars crisscrossing his face. He eyed the king and his companions up and down, sizing them up before speaking. “What men are you in need of?” he asked gruffly.

“Bandits,” Vasos spoke up confidently, stepping forward to join the king. “We be lookin’ fer the craftiest of fighters, them who know these lands inside out and can lend a hand in our grand undertakin’s.”

The guards exchanged a look before one of them stepped forward, eyeing Vasos up and down. “And what be the offer for us, eh?”

King Alexander stepped forward, meeting the guard’s gaze. “We shall provide payment for their services,” the king said. “We shall offer a fair price for their formidable skills.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The guard considered his words for a moment before grunting and stepping aside. “Alright then,” he grumbled. “But if you want to strike a deal, you’ll have to speak to the captain. He’s the one who calls the shots ‘round these parts.”

The group nodded their understanding and the gate slowly creaked open, revealing the bustling interior of the mercenary post. They made their way inside.

The post was a hub of activity, with mercenaries of all types coming and going, looking for work or returning from missions. Groups of mercenaries were training, some were repairing their gear, and others just relaxing in the courtyard. The sound of clanging metal, shouting, and laughter filled the air. Inside the post, there were various rooms and halls for sleeping, eating, and gathering. They adorned the walls with trophies and banners from past battles.

A man in a leather jerkin approached them, his face covered in scars. “I be Captain Balthazar,” he declared, extending a hand in greeting. “What be yer business, and how can I be of service to ye?”

“We enlist the services of your bandits,” King Alexander said, shaking the man’s hand firmly.

The captain considered this for a moment before nodding. “Alright, I reckon I got the perfect crew for ya. Come, follow me,” the bandit leader said, leading the way with a confident stride.

He led them deeper into the mercenary post, past rows of tents and buildings. Finally, they arrived at a group of rough-looking men and women, each one armed with swords and bows.

“These here are the ones ye be seekin’,” the bandit leader declared, presenting the assembled group with a sweeping gesture.

The king approached them, eyeing them up and down.

“We hired you,” he said simply.

The bandits looked at each other, then back at the king. “For what?” one of them asked.

“For the might of my army,” the king said. “To embark upon daring raids into the lands of my adversaries.”

The bandits exchanged a look before nodding. “Alright,” declared the leader of the bandit crew. “We be in. Let the mischief begin.”

The mercenaries and the king’s advisors work together to count out the gold coins, ensuring that the payment is accurate. Once the transaction is complete, the mercenary captain gives a sharp whistle.

The bandits, a ragtag group of miscreants and criminals, looked warily at the king and his entourage. The captain gave them a stern look, warning them they were still free men but now under contract to fight for Alexanderia. Deserters would be subject to Alexandrian Law. They nodded.

As the bandits left the post, King Alexander watched them go, remarking with a sense of satisfaction, “With each passing day, our army grows stronger, and I know well that in the battles to come, we shall require every soldier at our disposal,”

Haemon nods in agreement and says, “Indeed, your Highness. It is imperative that our army remain robust and adequately equipped to face any unforeseen circumstances. However, they will prove poor soldiers if faced with the probability of death; they could be useful in tertiary scenarios.”

Pikener adds, “having experienced bandits within our ranks can prove helpful. They possess expertise in guerrilla tactics and unconventional warfare. Though, I would never have them join the regular army and face the enemy head-on.”

“Indeed, we must exercise caution, Your Majesty,” Bloud interjected. “Employing bandits carries inherent risks, and we cannot guarantee their unwavering loyalty to our cause.”

Old Croll nodded sagely and said, “Indeed, I concur. Prudence should guide our steps, yet if these bandits can aid us in attaining our objectives, the potential rewards may outweigh the inherent risks.”

Vasos, the spymaster, remained silent, observing the conversation with a neutral expression on his face.

As the king and his entourage left the mercenary outpost, the king asked, “What about Garrald’s City Tours?” with a curious tone, his interest piqued.

“I do not believe that would be a worthwhile endeavor, my lord,” said Croll.

Ghorin Pikener said, “And what of the Great Gar’Gallock? The locals speak of it in awe, claiming it to be a most remarkable spectacle.”

A smile graced the face of King Alexander.“Indeed, let us speak to this Great Gar’Gallock.”