Janaor was a beautiful city. Lying on the gentler slope of a mountain, it was carved out of solid rock by Coherian artisans. It truly was a beautiful city. However, what remained of it was nothing but a smoldering ruin. Alessia Korswain, in the time honored tradition of Eldian warfare, had ordered her legion to tear down the city brick by brick. While her titan had torn apart the walls, larger buildings and towers, and even trampled the lesser buildings, the task of demolishing the smaller structures fell on to the shoulders of the legionnaires.
That was what they were engaged in when Wilmar's entourage rode into the open field upon which the Eldian forces had made camp. Lines of tents lay inside the wooden fortifications that surrounded the field which in turn were surrounded by a series of trenches filled with wooden pikes. Warriors clad in chainmail and furs marched in squads to patrol the parameter, their spears and shields marked with the heraldry of House Korswain, just like the banners the hung about. A wolf skull augmented with antlers from a stag was the sigil of the bearers of the Beast, which was apt enough.
The lack of heads on pikes and crucified Coherians in the camp was noticeable. The latter made sense since crucifixion was originally a Marleyan practice and House Korswain were staunch traditionalists, not keen on adopting aspects from foreign cultures. Yet, the display of decapitated heads on pikes and poles was a common enough practice among the hill tribes. Thus its absence was a bit unwarranted. This brought Wilmar to the conclusion that for some reason, the rebel militia did not face mass execution.
The chariot Wilmar sat in rode traversed the broad road that cut through the camp, leading to the command tent. Following him were fifty housecarls and cataphracts about twice that number. Wilmar's body had still not completely recovered from the prolonged transformation from the previous day. Hence, he chose to use a chariot instead of horseback.
Calling the command tent a 'tent' was an understatement. For all means and purposes, it was a miniature fortress. A two storied structure of wood, cloth and leather, the command tent was as large as a regular countryside villa. Nearly a couple dozen warriors draped in overlapping lamellar plates and armed with ornate axes and manuballistae stood guard. A tall man stepped out from the main entrance. His ash brown mane and long beard was braided with rings and totems of silver engraved with old Eldian runes. A wolf pelt was wrapped over his shoulders, which made the man's identity quite clear.
"Ervas Korswain?" Wilmar asked, getting off the chariot.
"I am," said Alessia's elder brother, "And you must be Lord Astelan."
Wilmar nodded, "A pleasure meeting you."
"Your warriors can wait at the mess hall for the time being," he said, then waved at thralls to lead them away, "You, Lord, follow me. Would you fancy some wine?"
"No, thank you," Wilmar refused politely, "But I could do with a horn of mead."
"Mead it is then," Ervas looked at one of his guards, "You heard the lord."
The guard bowed and rushed away. Ervas turned his gaze to the helmed warrior that stood behind Wilmar.
"This is Hector," Wilmar introduced, "My thane, and this is Vigurd, the commander of my cataphracts."
"Very well," Ervas said, "It would be improper for them to not accompany you. Please follow."
From the inside, the command tent was not as spacious as one might expect. Instead of a single large open space, the interior was composed of a cluster of rooms each of which was tightly packed with war gear and trophies from former triumphs. Ervas led the group to the central chamber. Like the greathall, it was a large rectangular room filled with officers and logisticians and tables stacked with piles of parchment and slates of brass.
"Newblood," called out a familiar voice from the corner of the room, "You did great at Vanhold."
Alessia Korswain sat hunched on a wooden stool in the corner of the chamber, draped in a simple undyed tunic of wool. A druid dressed in hooded robes stood behind her, drawing blood from her nape. The blood drawn was poured into a flask that was placed on a concentrated flame. Another druid, this one was an old woman who had lowered the hood of her robes, added various herbs into the boiling mixture. Wilmar did not like the implications of that.
"Thank you, Lady Korswain," he replied, "However, we had to face some unanticipated elements that proved to be rather…troublesome." He chose his words carefully, so as to not imply weakness.
"Unanticipated elements that troubled a titan lord?" Korswain raised an eyebrow.
"Unanticipated elements that cost about half a thousand lives," Wilmar retorted sternly, "Lives that belonged to Eldia and could have been saved if not for the said elements."
Alessia glanced at the druids and held up a hand, ordering them to stop. Picking up a piece of cloth from one of the tables, rose from the stool, wiping the blood off her nape as steam rose from the wound. She walked to an isolated stack of parchments and grabbed the sheets at the top.
"Scout reports," she offered Wilmar the parchments.
The young titan lord took the given reports and flashed through them. He skimmed past most of the mundane information but words such as munitions, arms and armor, onagers, ballistae, and equines remained in his mind. After reaching the last sheet, Wilmar passed the parchments on to Hector, who eventually gave them to Vigurd.
"Are these the elements that have proved to be so troublesome to your warriors, Astelan?" Alessia asked.
"Yes," he confirmed, "Although my forces did not face any siege weapons."
"Fortune smiled upon them," she regarded.
Wilmar's face contorted into a scowl, but he refrained from raging and instead said, "The rebels couldn't by any means have conjured up these resources by themselves. What do you think?"
"I was planning upon interrogating their leaders," Alessia said, "But they all poisoned themselves as soon as they realized that We had arrived."
"Makes sense," he shook his head, "What of the others though? There surely must be some sort of chain of command for such an organized insurgent force."
"Apparently, they aren't too keen on revealing anything," she sighed, then snapped her fingers, "But, I have a plan."
Two of her housecarls, shield-maidens to be specific, brought out a set of armor and began placing it over Alessia. First component was a knee-length coat of mail that directly went over her tunic. The second was a bronze cuirass, a musculata, which was strapped over the torso.
"What is this plan of yours?" Wilmar asked, irritated by the idle talk.
"Are you familiar with the term 'decimation'?" Alessia asked. The final component of her attire, a bear pelt, was pinned to her shoulders.
"I have read about it," Wilmar informed, "It was a disciplinary practice employed by the Marleyan military. What of it?"
Another housecarls handed Alessia her helm, which was a simple skull cap with a face plate and two large antlers that were fused to the top.
"We will find out," she smiled cruelly, then placed the helm over her head and walked out of the chamber.