The mercenary army flocking to Hildmoor is a chaotic rabble handpicked by the engineer for their skill in machinery and hand-to-hand-fighting, and general mayhem and unpredictability. They hold no order whatsoever and tend to wreak havoc wherever they are... what do they care... as long as they get paid... good gold coinage is the only goal in this life...
The men in the mercenary army go about clashed in an eccentric style of clothing elements, defining their personality (it's important to discern from others): pink tutu's, rabbit suits, goth silken shirts and army boots, long leather trenchcoats, maquillage, nerd goggles and striped shirts and dandruff hairs, green punk mohawks, police outifts with the buttocks in the leather trousers missing, cavemen dressed in bearskins, slaveboys with chains attached to their necks, and nipplerings, firemen with impressive plastic yellow helmets, gas masks, Nazi helmets with a gleaming point, football masks and screaming rugbyjock numbered shirts, wolfskin caps, tall furry bearcaps, clanking full body armor, dentist tools, Alice-in-Wonderland-stockings, leather aprons, barbed bracelets and spicky neck colars, Gandalf-hats decorated with fluoro stars, gladiator nets and helms, thick sumo-wrestling suits, biosuits with oxygen tanks, black butcher caps, striped woodchopper shirts tucked in strong denim, colorful palm-tree swimshirts, flippers, plastic dinosaur tails attached to their rear, backpacks laden with shortwave radio equipment, camouflage-combatdress, kevlar bullet vests, pink panties, paint-palletes and curly moustaches, straightjackets, funny flyboy goggles, monocles, dragqueen boots, Orc-masks, idiotic square cardboard helmets, cowboy hats, indian skirts and stripes. Their weapons? Anything capable of infllcting pain.
They are a product of modern civilisation, prone to propaganda, proficient with technology, Almost all of them sport the Metalux logo on their shirt, or have a "Gott Mit Uns" neckchain, or the Pink Dinosaur badge. If you fight these men, the last thing you may see is the Dinosaur badge smiling happily back at you as your body is spiked on a rusted blade, it's "BUY DINOPOPS" catchphrase mocking any honor you may have.
These men have no honor, no law, no magic. They are an enemy not worth dying for, but an enemy that needs to be faced nonetheless.
Honor dies here and makes room for banality.