The Estalians pressed on, traveling down the dirt road till they fell to its end. Knowing they would soon have to cross fields and hills, they prepared for a hard ride. The Estalians were comfortable with roads, but were more accustom to the lack of roads. The Estalians, either bored of the long trudge, or chipper from their raid, began to sing. They song in their native song a bawdy song of an Elf and her deallings with a randy troll. They joked at times, saying out of tune that they met a few women like that, and half of those were from the town they just sacked. Over all, spirits were high and it made the two days travel much easier.
The day was young, it could be called a good a day, it was in the Estalians' opinions at the least. The townsfolk, did not share such an idea towards the end of the day once the strangers made their stay. It was, in Leon's opinion, another "barbarian's" town, it was larger then the last, this could of easily held 200 or so people, and this one had its own palisade wall. The local peasants who were tending to their fields, looked up at the Knights and smiled. They had not a clue what these knights committed just three days before, and they had no clue they were still blood thirsty. Luckily for them, the Knights were not stupid, they knew such a town could not be bullied so easily by just 21 men. The Knights, in return to the smiles, tipped their crescent helms in a respectful nod and continued on. In their own native tongue, they spoke ill of these people, insulting them behind happy smiles. Leon himself found he held a giant grin from ear to ear all the while saying comments that would make a troll look civilized. It was one these peasants that Leon was busy insulting, that came up to the group. The peasant was a strongly built, stout bear of a man, he had sharp eyes and gruff features. The man, without fear, looked up and spoke in Reikspiel slowly, so that the strangers might better understand him.
"Who, are, you?"
Leon, keeping the smile alive, turns to the man and speaks slowly himself, trying to mask as much of the accent as he can. As he spoke he soon found no matter how hard he tried, his r's rolled and his accent came thick. He was a messanger use to speaking to Estalian Lords, Bretonnian Nobles, or Tilean Merchants, not men the Empire... Leon barely grasped their language.
"I am, Leon De Cantabaria, an' these arr~e my, caballeros. We come for... uh... Trade? . . . Work. . . Job? Word vanishes the tongue... I speak bits, only your Ree'k'spela.''
The peasant, being a man of patience, nods and listens to Leon butcher the language. He knew from past experiences that men dressed the way these strangers were, did not learn to speak his native tongue. He knew also of what Leon was trying to say, Mercenaries. It was an all too common trade in this area, men for hire were just as plentiful as orcs and goblins. The peasent knew such business matters were not for him to decide, but instead, for the town mayor to conjure up. Speaking slowly once more, the man looked up at Leon and stared him fully in the eyes.
"Come. Fallow me. Speak to Mayor."
Leon, could not help but smile, for once a town with a governmental system, this was good, this meant people he could actually talk to. Hours went by as Leon and the mayor talked about business, each trying to express that the other needed them more then the other. Leon tried to say the town needed real soldiers and knights to protect it, the man tried to explain that the knights needed food and shelter, a place to keep the horses and tend to their armor. Both trying to cut a deal that undermined the other. Over all, it ended poorly, the Estalians took offense once the man brought up the idea of Tilean Mercenaries working for cheaper prices. This caused a flare of Drama for the rest of the night that drove the Estalians out of the Mayor's residence to the town's inn. There, the 20 knights drank the night away, Leon took to drinking much less. Leon kept himself sober, sober enough to talk and listen to the local gossip, learning about who in these lands was worth the trip to see.
The Knights, having given up trying to gain the town's favor, became just temporary guestes. They enjoyed the local drink, enjoyed the local beds, enjoyed the local women, but most of all, enjoyed the local gossip. The Estalians spoke little Reikspiel but what they did understand, they understood numbers and gold the most. They heard of the local towns that had some coin stashed away, they learned of the rich lords of the area, they learned names. Leon had more then enough information to send back to his Lord's expeditionary force, he knew once those men got the word, everytown not showering them with money would be sacked and looted. He knew that soon, these towns better pay up, or their mercenary work may soon turn into the work of local raiders. But till then, this town was to be their home, it was large enough and it had enough distractions to keep the Knights busy till Leon could plan something, till then, all they can do is wait.