Re-installed the game for the first time in ages and started up a mercenary company.
Things were going reasonably well for a while, though my leadership skills were certainly somewhat rusty, but then I bit off far, far more than we could chew by attacking a necromancer's hideout in the hopes of gaining some renown. Long story short, I'd forgotten the best strategies for taking on necromancers and their undead lackeys, and we were swarmed and butchered since I hadn't sent enough skirmishers around the flanks after the necromancer himself.
I thought that was game over and wasn't overly upset, I'd been planning on getting the DLC and starting a new game anyhow - but then I thought, "hang on, didn't I have 13 men in my company?"
Sure enough, there was one fella left, presumably encamped just next to the scene of the battle/massacre, guarding our gear and listening to the gruesome sounds of his former comrades being feasted on. It cannot have been a pleasant time. When no-one came back, he gathered the stuff and fled.
To his credit, though, this one guy - Guido the tramp - decided to stick with the mercenary life despite this having been the first battle the company had seen since he joined. He wandered back to the nearest village, used the group's remaining funds (they'd been running a bit low already) to procure the services of a few more nobodies like himself (equipping them with the dregs of leftover gear nobody had been using) and set off again, managing to find another job.
So I mean, the show goes on. For now.