The midday sun cast its warmth over Sasau as Dikun Silver stepped through the bustling marketplace. Stalls lined the cobbled streets, displaying everything from freshly butchered meat to bolts of dyed fabric. Merchants called out their wares, the air thick with the scent of roasted bread and spices.
But Dikun had no time to savor the town's comforts. The contract was clear — track down the bandits that plagued the trade routes and eliminate them. Fifty silver waited at the end of it, but only if he succeeded.
Beside him, Elira strolled with a practiced ease, her sharp eyes scanning the passing faces. She seemed far too relaxed for someone about to march into danger, but Dikun had learned quickly that the woman rarely showed her true thoughts.
"We'll need supplies," she said. "Food, water, and a few tools. No use charging into the woods half-prepared."
Dikun nodded. "And weapons. My sword won't last another fight."
"Good. You're thinking like a mercenary." Elira smirked. "Come on, I know a blacksmith who won't ask too many questions."
---
The Blacksmith's Forge
The rhythmic clang of hammer on steel echoed as they approached the forge. Heat radiated from the blazing furnace, illuminating the burly figure of the blacksmith as he pounded glowing iron into shape.
"Looking for work, or trouble?" the blacksmith grunted without glancing up.
"Neither," Dikun replied. "I need a weapon that won't fail me."
The blacksmith set down his hammer, wiping the sweat from his brow. His thick arms were covered in soot, the leather apron stained from years of toil. His gaze settled on Dikun, noting the boy's patched armor and worn sword.
"You've seen a fight or two," the blacksmith remarked.
"Enough to know I'll need something better."
The man grunted in approval. "I've got steel that'll outlast any bandit's blade. But it won't come cheap."
"I have ten silver."
The blacksmith's laugh was short and harsh. "That'll barely buy you a rusted dagger."
"Then what will?"
Elira, ever resourceful, stepped forward. "We're on a contract for the bailiff. Bandit work. Fifty silver when we're done. If we succeed, we pay you double what's owed."
The blacksmith's brow lifted. "And if you fail?"
"Then we won't be around to argue about it."
For a moment, the man said nothing. Then, with a nod, he gestured toward a rack of weapons.
"Take your pick. Just make sure you return in one piece."
---
A New Blade
Dikun's fingers traced along the polished steel of a longsword. Its edge gleamed in the light, untested but deadly. He could feel its weight — heavier than his previous blade, but balanced. It demanded strength and precision.
"I'll take this one," Dikun said.
"Good choice," the blacksmith replied. "And what about your armor?"
Dikun shook his head. "I'll make do with what I have."
The blacksmith's expression darkened. "A sword won't save you if your ribs are bare. But suit yourself."
With the weapon secured to his belt, Dikun felt the slightest sense of reassurance. He wasn't a knight in gleaming plate, but he no longer looked like a common farmhand.
"One step at a time," he murmured.
---
Gathering the Warband
"Two blades won't be enough," Elira said as they left the forge. "Not for twenty bandits."
"We'll need others," Dikun agreed. "But where do we find men willing to fight?"
Elira's grin returned. "You'd be surprised how many souls in a place like this are eager for coin."
The tavern, the docks, the market — Sasau was full of those who had fallen on hard times. Former soldiers, disgraced guards, and young men with no future. Some sought glory, others simply survival.
"We need five," Dikun said, calculating their odds. "No more, no less. We move as a small unit. Fast, quiet, and decisive."
"Sounds like a proper warband," Elira remarked. "Let's find out who's foolish enough to follow us."
---
The First Recruit
The Boar's Head Inn was as lively as ever. Drunken laughter spilled from its wooden doors, and the air reeked of sweat and spilled ale. In the corner, a brawny man sat hunched over a mug. His unkempt beard and weathered leather armor marked him as no stranger to the road.
"That's our man," Elira whispered.
Dikun approached, his steps steady. "Looking for work?"
The man lifted his gaze. "Depends on the work."
"Bandits. Twenty men. Fifty silver reward."
The stranger chuckled. "And how many are standing with you?"
"Just us. For now."
The man's grin widened. "Then you're either fools or desperate."
"Both," Dikun replied. "But we're alive. And we intend to stay that way."
After a moment, the man nodded. "Name's Rudric. I've killed for less than fifty silver. You'll have my sword."
One down. Four to go.
---
The Road Ahead
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Dikun Silver stood with Elira and Rudric beneath the shadow of Sasau's walls. Supplies were packed, weapons sharpened, and resolve hardened. The warband was far from complete, but it had begun.
Tomorrow, they would find the rest.
And soon, they would face the bandits who plagued the roads.
Dikun would fight. He would lead. And with every step, he would carve his name into the annals of history.