"We're here." Justinian happily said, slamming his ledger shut, as the carriage he and Isis rode in came to a stop just before a large army that was making the final preparations before they moved off. They wore a flurry of colours and carried numerous banners, each one of them representing a different mercenary company. It was shocking how easy it was to tell the difference in terms of prestige between them all, even for Isis, who had no military training.
Smaller groups, only a few hundred big, all stood in neat, organised formations, their armour and weapons perfect, any previous damage they may have suffered perfectly repaired. They all looked better fed, were tall, muscular, and their armour and banner were adorned with brighter colours.
