BannerLord VR

After entering the house, Sora didn’t even let me catch my breath. She immediately sat on one of the ornate wooden chairs and pulled out three books she had brought. The whole setup reminded me of my childhood when I was forced to sit down and study, whether I liked it or not. The way Sora began to tutor me was eerily reminiscent of those days, though this time, the stakes were much higher. The difference was, when I was a kid, studying felt like a chore, something you had to do because your parents told you to. Now, everything we were discussing could decide whether I and the rest of Nova lived or died.

The room was dimly lit by the sunshine and a large lantern on the corner of the table. The smell of wood and old leather filled the air, mixed with the slight scent of lavender from a small pouch that hung by the window. It was a simple but well-maintained house, far better than anything I had stayed in during my time here.

Sora laid the books out on the table between us, explaining how she had divided our discussion into four key topics: weapons and armor, supplies, hierarchy of command, and troop welfare. She was thorough, speaking with the kind of confidence that only came from a life of experience. If we could improve on these four points, she said, our group would stand out from the rest of the mercenary companies in Calradia.

“Weapons and armor are what will keep your men alive. You don’t want them to be cannon fodder,” she said as she flipped through one of the books.

I nodded, already feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. Mannes was gone, and now it was on me to carry forward the ideals he had set for Nova. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if I was cut out for it. But I had no choice. Sora’s voice brought me back to the present as she continued to outline her plan.

The first thing we tackled was the discussion on weapons and armor for the recruits. There were a lot of improvements that Sora proposed. She suggested that each recruit be issued basic, inexpensive armor when they joined the party. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, just enough to give them a fighting chance. If a recruit performed well in our assignments, we could reward them by upgrading their gear. Alternatively, they could also choose to upgrade their armor using their earnings or loot from fallen enemies.

“We need to make sure it’s cheap but functional,” she explained. “We don’t want to bankrupt ourselves before we’ve even taken our first real steps as a group.”

I nodded, understanding the importance of managing our resources. She suggested we start with gambesons, padded cloth armor, or basic leather armor, which were inexpensive enough to be given to every recruit and could be produced with relative ease. These materials weren’t as durable as chainmail or plate armor, but they would be effective enough for recruits who had yet to prove themselves in battle.

The table between us was cluttered with pieces of paper, notes scribbled in different directions. The weight of each decision we made was like a stone pressing on my chest. It wasn’t just about equipping soldiers; it was about ensuring their survival.

Next, we discussed arming the recruits. Much like the armor, the weapons they received would be basic at first, but they could be upgraded later. I told her that the weapons currently in use by our troops were inconsistent and of varying quality. Some recruits were using frails and pitchforks, while others carried axes or spears. Many of the weapons were farming tools repurposed for combat—frails that were used to strike piles of grain or axes that had once chopped wood. This was a common practice for peasants who joined mercenary groups.

“I wanted to give each recruit a sword and shield,” I said, “but that’s not realistic, is it?”

Sora shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Swords are expensive, Augustus. Too expensive. But we can start with something cheaper.”

After a long discussion, we settled on the idea of arming the recruits with wooden javelins tipped with metal. These would be versatile weapons, capable of being thrown from a distance, and they would do damage whether they hit flesh or pierced armor. For close combat, we would issue spears and billhooks—simple weapons that were effective for both thrusting and slashing. To round out their equipment, each recruit would carry a small knife or a single-bladed axe, tools that could serve multiple purposes both on and off the battlefield.

“Weapons that can serve in both day-to-day life and war,” Sora mused, “that’s what we’re aiming for.”

I felt a sense of pride, thinking about how far Nova had come in such a short time. But then, reality hit me—this wasn’t a game anymore. There were no do-overs if I made the wrong choice.

While Sora began calculating the costs for these upgrades, something occurred to me. “What about bows?” I asked. “We don’t have any ranged capabilities.”

She thought for a moment, resting her chin on her hand, but her expression showed some dissatisfaction. “Training soldiers to use bows takes time—time we don’t have,” she said. “But I have an alternative: crossbows. Light crossbows are more expensive, but they require less training than longbows. We can issue them to a few of our recruits and save on other gear since they won’t need much for melee combat.”

When she finished her calculations, the numbers were daunting. “It’ll cost us about one thousand denars to fully equip a crossbowman,” she explained, “mostly due to the cost of the crossbows themselves. For a regular soldier, we’re looking at four hundred eighty denars per recruit.”

I did a quick calculation in my head. If I wanted six crossbowmen and seventeen regular soldiers, it would cost us around fourteen thousand five hundred denars—just about the amount we had saved. It was a sobering realization. We couldn’t afford to equip everyone just yet, but at least now we had a detailed plan and an estimate to work from.

By the time we finished discussing the equipment, the sun was beginning to set. I was starting to feel the weight of the day, but Sora’s enthusiasm showed no signs of waning. She was relentless, pushing us to the next topic: supplies.

Just as we started, the recruits returned from their training with the garrison. They looked bruised and battered, some of them so pale they seemed like they had seen a ghost. I felt a pang of guilt. I wanted to greet them and check on their progress, but Sora quickly shut the door, keeping them outside while we continued our discussion. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. They were finally getting a chance to rest while I was stuck here discussing logistics late into the night.

We moved on to the topic of supplies, and as usual, Sora had a lot to say. I could see the glint of determination in her eyes as she launched into her plan, outlining exactly what we would need to keep Nova running efficiently.

“The key to any successful mercenary group isn’t just strength in battle,” she said, leaning forward. “It’s the ability to keep your men well-fed, well-armed, and healthy. Supplies are everything.”

She was right, of course. It didn’t matter how well we equipped our soldiers if we couldn’t provide them with enough food and resources to keep them going through the long campaigns ahead. We discussed how each recruit would be responsible for carrying their own armor and personal tools while marching, but it wouldn’t be enough for larger operations.

“For bigger jobs,” Sora said, “we’ll need pack animals. Mules, maybe even horses, to help transport goods and equipment. It’ll allow us to move faster and with more agility.”

The cost was another burden on my already strained finances, but it was necessary. We couldn’t afford to be slow or poorly supplied if we were going to take on more dangerous assignments. The thought of buying mules wasn’t exactly exciting, but it would improve the group’s logistics, allowing us to transport more food, water, and weapons.

“We’ll have to invest in good storage for food as well,” she added, scribbling more notes. “No point in gathering all these supplies if they spoil on the road.”

By this point, my head was starting to spin. There were so many things to consider that I never even thought about before, and it was exhausting trying to keep track of everything. But I knew Sora was right. All of this was vital if we were going to keep Nova alive and thriving.

Next, we moved on to the hierarchy of command. This was something I had no real experience with, and it was starting to show.

“In any well-organized group,” Sora began, “you can’t have a single leader giving orders to every soldier. That’s a recipe for chaos. You need officers—people you can trust to relay your commands and keep their squads in check.”

The idea made sense. It was too difficult for me to manage every single recruit personally, especially as our group grew larger. Having a chain of command would make everything smoother, but finding the right people to act as officers was going to be the real challenge.

“I’ve seen how some of your men follow orders,” she said, looking at me with a serious expression. “But you need to identify the ones with leadership potential. They need to be able to think on their feet, make decisions, and rally the others in tough situations.”

I nodded, thinking about the few recruits who had shown some promise during our previous assignments. But how could I trust anyone the way I trusted Mannes? The thought of his betrayal still lingered in the back of my mind. Sora must have sensed my hesitation because she reached across the table, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “You’ve made it this far. Trust your instincts.”

Her words gave me some comfort, but the weight of the responsibility still pressed down on me. I had to be careful with who I chose—Nova’s survival depended on it.

Finally, we discussed the welfare of the troops. Sora had saved this topic for last, and by the time we got to it, I was completely drained. But I listened as she explained the importance of keeping the soldiers’ morale high and ensuring that they were well-cared for, both in life and death.

“Mercenaries don’t have much security,” she said, “so if you want loyalty, you’ll have to offer them something more than just coin. Start a savings system. Hold back a portion of their pay, and if they’re ever injured, or worse, if they die, that money can go to their families. It’s an insurance policy of sorts.”

The idea struck me as brilliant. Most mercenaries didn’t expect much beyond their daily wages, but offering them something more, a safety net for their loved ones could make all the difference. It would keep them loyal to Nova, knowing that even if they fell in battle, their families would be taken care of.

Sora also proposed allowing soldiers to request an advance on their wages if they had served for at least a month. “Sometimes life throws unexpected challenges,” she said, “and they’ll appreciate having the option to get paid ahead of time if they need it.”

By this point, I could barely keep my eyes open. I had pulled all-nighters before, but never for something like this. Back on Earth, I would have stayed up late playing games, not discussing troop welfare. But here I was, feeling like my brain was melting from all the information Sora had crammed into it.

Sora, on the other hand, showed no signs of slowing down. She was still scribbling notes and calculating costs, her energy seemingly endless. Meanwhile, my body was screaming for rest. I agreed to her last proposal about the advance pay, thinking that it was better than anything I had in my old job back on Earth.

I tried to stay awake, to contribute more to the conversation, but it was hopeless. My mind shut down, and before I knew it, I had slumped forward, falling asleep in the chair. The last thing I remembered was Sora’s voice, still rattling off ideas as I drifted off into a deep, much-needed sleep.