Happy New year! :)
Spring Y1, the Northernland campaign
Forests were cleared, and trenches were dug. The first of the fortifications were built along the southern borders, were the Northernlands meet the main central plains of Re-Estize. Here, where the mountains meet the plains, is a place where Erik hoped to build fortifications to deter the south.
Its a rush at this time of the year, with the beginning of the planting season and thawing snow making construction a little harder, but they did not have the luxury of choosing.
King Barbro, or as he styles himself, King Barbosa, had commanded the north acknowledge him as King. Logically, the North refused. In a time of civil war, this was the best chance they had to strike it alone, without the Kingdom. And so the new King, retaliated angrily, and commanded Count Lytton to march an army north to crush the rebels, as he always wanted to.
It is never a good time to fight a war, but Erik was more comfortable to fight a defensive war now, when the two princes are occupied in their fight with each other, splitting the number of men available to Barbro to send towards the Northernlands. And with less men, a sliver's chance at victory, and a path to some form of permanent statehood appeared.
Thirty thousand Northerners, in a defensive war against fifty thousand, Erik wagered they still have a decent chance. The drafted men would be exhausted, having to march up north, and the cold would take some getting used to for the enemy's army. It is time, for the north to pull it's forces together and mount it's first defense against the South.
Magni said, partly whispering to Erik. "I don't like owing that undead fella anything." They inspected the goods shipped from all over the northernland towns and cities to build the fortification and stock up the armory.
"Me too." Erik nodded, while he inspected some carts of weapons being pushed through to the front lines. After that, a cart carrying wooden spikes meant for the outer walls passed by.
"But somehow the timing sure is working well…"
"It's sure awfully convenient for a brotherly quarrel to happen." Magni laughed, and a few of the other men next to him laughed with him. "Those royals in Re-Estize just care about themselves, and so they miss the forest for the trees!"
But their laughter was cut short.
"Erik! Bad news. A group of robbers attacked our stables and stole our horses!" A fellow rebel ran over, panting.
"How many did they steal?"
"About one hundred of the horses. They fled into the high mountains!"
"What happened to the guards?"
"Killed, most of them. Some managed to escape, they say they looked like some kind of cult members wearing hoods and had weird masks on. The dead had their bodies sliced from strange angles, and some stabbed in the back."
"Any idea who?"
"Not sure…"
Magni looked uncomfortable, and then signalled some men over. "Go investigate." He then turned to Erik, "I'm going to assign some guards to protect you. I don't feel too good about this."
"No, we need all the men to build the forts. It's probably just some robbers who wanted to sell the horses for money."
Magni wanted to argue, but he gave up. "With a 100 horses gone…"
Erik mumbled, lamenting the hit it meant to the cavalry force. The northernlands did not have many horses suited for battle, so their cavalry is small. Losing 100 horses is nothing for the Kingdom where the vast grasslands support a huge population of warhorses, and that puts them at a tactical disadvantage.
"Split up the horses. We can't lose that many horses again. Break up the cavalry groups to smaller teams." Magni suggested. "If they get stolen, it won't be that many horses together."
"Aye Captain." But both Erik and Magni knew it was too little, too late. No matter how they try to protect their remaining horses, the fact remains that they do not have many horses at all.
Erik looked at the makeshift camps that house their rebel army. Some forty thousand men gathered to fight for their independence, but he wondered how well their rank and file understands why they are rebelling. Maybe they just follow whatever their town chieftain says, as such is the order of their feudal society, or whatever the nobles decreed.
Count Lytton's army should arrive within a week, but with the nation now splintered, the supply lines should be relatively thin and weakly protected. So the south cannot afford to wage a long battle, and they would probably hope for a swift resolution to the rebellion.
"The scouts say the army is moving in two groups, the first group about twenty thousand, and the second about thirty thousand. About 2,000 cavalrymen, armed with both spears, and ranged weapons, most of it attached to the second group."
The fortification is mostly a mix of wood and earth, and the strategy is to stall the close ranged fighters while the arrows and spears try to kill off as many as they could.
"With the lost of the 100 horses, we have about 800 cavalrymen." Kandae joined Erik and Magni in the fields, and looked at the smoke far off in the distance. It seemed to suggest an enemy encampment, an intentional signal by the enemy army that they were nearby.
"But let's worry another day. Get some food at the mess hall, Erik. Some of the men that arrived want to talk to you too." Kandae tapped. "They want to hear from you personally."
Erik nodded, and together they walked into the makeshift mess hall where all the men came to eat. There was an exhaustion in everyone's eyes, from their long journeys from all over the northernlands, their spirits uncertain of their future. War is coming, and not many wants to fight wars. After annual wars and drafts by the Kingdom, there's a buildup of combat fatigue. The men just wanted peace.
He walked over to some and started to chat.
"Y'know Erik… how many will die in the coming fights?" A young man asked, worried of the days ahead.
"Many." Erik didn't felt appropriate to lie. These were adults, and they are putting their lives on the line for their cause. "And it won't be the last battle either. There will be many, many battles until we win."
But he could still be hopeful.
"Many here just want to be left alone, to live their daily lives. But here we are, fighting another battle."
"Our usual daily life is gone, my dear friend. Not with a madman at the throne, who plotted to kill us so he could be King." Erik knew it was true. Barbro was no saint, and life under Barbro in the Kingdom would only be worst. "So fighting is our only way forward. If we win, we will have peace again."
And the mess hall rings with the roar of a warning horn. One blow of the horn, signalled the enemy was 3 days away.
"They are coming soon." A men said, and his face was a mix of fear and excitement. Some men were eager to give the south a piece of their mind, some just fear the deaths that will soon come.
Everyone else too started rising up from their seats, finishing whatever food on their plates, and left for training. In a few days, when the horn blows three times, they, the men of the north, would take their arms, and head out to battle. Not everyone whom they shared a meal with, would return for their next meal. What was once a full table, will become emptier.
Erik said a few prayers along the way for the safety of his men, and for victory, while he still sat on the table, and then left for the war room to meet the rest of his captains.
He hoped, and prayed, that all he and his team prepared for, will be enough to win the battles of the days ahead.
Spring Y1, E-Libera, Zanac and Barbro
The first battle between the two brothers was lost by Prince Zanac.
Barbro marched a significantly larger army onto the battlegrounds a few days west of E-Libera, and as the battle went on, the odds slowly tipped against Zanac. It seemed like Zanac's army would be crushed in the battle, but before the battle could be decisively won, an unusual occurrence of a heavy storm allowed his army to retreat from the losing battle and back to his city, for his men to lick their wounds, and prepare for their next battle.
Despite the constant rain and heavy wins, Zanac and his commanders tried his best to muster the men to fortify the city, and build up a temporary wall to stop the marching army. The siege to come, would very well be their decisive fight, and Zanac could not afford to lose. He would be nothing without his own main city of E-Libera.
Many of the citizens of his city are fleeing, and chaos descends on what looks like a coming bloody war.
"Run! King Barbro's army is coming!"
"Can we just surrender?!" Some wanted to just capitulate. "The city is not well fortified at all!" E-Libera's fortification is light, unlike that of E-Rantel, due to it's privileged position far inland of the Kingdom, away from the usual battles with the Baharuth Empire.
"They'll slaughter us anyway!" Some feared. "He will suspect all our loyalties, so he'll kill us too."
When the news broke of the retreating army, many fled. Some were stunned, not knowing how to react to the news, and E-Libera being a relatively peaceful city that never experienced sieges in recent years. Some just acted as if life was going on normally, because they honestly did not know any other life than being in their city.
Despite the first defeat, the army that Zanac gathered manage to regroup and toiled to fortify E-Libera into a city that within a few days, now somewhat looks a little like a fort. Every stored artillery, ballista or long range cannons they have, is now mounted on newly constructed wooden platforms or stone buildings near the city's borders, aimed at the general direction of Barbro's army.
In the main battle room, Zanac met with his advisors to discuss their plans for the coming siege.
"Prince Zanac, the rain is still ongoing, and Barbro's army has yet to march on rain is delaying them more than expected, and reports even say there are minor flooding along certain parts of their path."
Zanac nodded, internally relieved that the weather is siding them… for now. At times, he wondered whether this was the god's blessing, that his men managed to escape that losing battle earlier.
"What about our reinforcements?" Zanac referred to Marquis Raeven who went to his own city to raise another army, and gather the support of neutral minor nobles.
"Raeven's still putting together whatever men he can find and trying to march them towards E-Libera now. But he doesn't have much to spare, after whatever he garrisoned that is already with us. So he could only raise about 10,000 or so men."
"No matter. How long before they get here?"
"About 2 days… Hopefully the rain holds them back for a while more. With Raeven's additional forces we could win the next fight, or they could help to break the siege."
Lord Bolgar then walked in, one of his legs amputated, so he struggled in with a crutch. "Prince Zanac…"
Lord Farquhar moved over, "Bolgar, how are your injuries."
"Lost a leg." Bolgar seemed unfazed, perhaps a little annoyed that he had to answer something that is so easily visible. "But alive. The battlefield is muddy, and their siege weapons will find it harder to move in such terrain, so for now it should be out of range."
Farquhar went over and tapped the wrappings that covered his amputated leg, and Bolgar winced. The two had known each other since the younger days, growing up as fellow young nobles.
"But I had a strange feeling out there, Prince Zanac. Something about that storm isn't normal..."
Zanac turned and looked at Bolgar, who led the front lines during the first battle with Barbro's forces. Bolgar realised what he said sounded awfully stupid, perhaps a little superstitious.
"Oh never mind, Prince Zanac. We should figure out how to take out those siege weapons."
Barbro's army numbered 60,000 men, whereas Zanac raised an army of 20,000, and Raeven sent over another 25,000, and during the first battle, it seemed some 10,000 of their men died. Bolgar had estimated Barbro to have lost about 8,000 to 10,000 men, putting the revised count at 50,000 men on Barbro's side against 35,000. If Raeven could later arrive with 10,000 or 15,000 men, they would be relatively even in terms of men, though in terms of equipment they would still be behind.
If they went to battle in an open field at this moment, in sunny weather, they would be lose, as Barbro had the numerical advantage, and better equipment overall, courtesy of his control of the royal armory in Re-Estize.
"This rain is good for us, Prince Zanac. Bolgar is right, sire. Maybe we can mount a sneak attack and sabotage the ballistas and catapults?" One of the captains serving in as Zanac's retinue went on to describe how with the use of the city's stock of alchemic powder, and a small squad of infiltrators using some of the Royal Army uniforms retrieved from the battlefield, they could sneak to the siege weapons and blow them up.
"That's a good idea, sir. It's very bad if we let them get close to our city walls. Our walls will fall apart with those siege weapons. Take it out, then our ballistas can keep the pressure on their army and give us some advantage."
"Are you confident?" Zanac was doubtful in his heart, but perhaps he was wishing for a strategic lapse in Barbro's camp. Though he knew Barbro isn't much of a strategic planner, he had the support of the Marquis Blumlash and the Barons and Lords on his retinue who possess better strategic vision.
"Yes, we will take them out." The captain seemed confident, and answered.
"Very well. May the gods' smile upon us today." Zanac nodded, a little unsure of himself.
The men then bowed and withdrew themselves from the room.
"I wonder what's Barbro plotting. Plots aren't usually his thing…" Zanac wondered aloud, his body arched over the table, looking at the map of his town and the little dolls representing Barbro's army in the distance.
Zanac sipped the cup of water in his hand, and Lord Ambrose, another of the Lord's in Zanac's struggle, entered the room.
"Barbro may have assassins around here." Lord Ambrose was clad in full armor, and seemed battle ready. "My dear Prince, you best be in your armor as well. Though we may seem safe in this city, we never truly know when someone creeps up on us."
"Yes." Zanac then grabbed the chainmail on the chair and put it over his body. Flashbacks of watching King Lamposa being assassinated somehow crossed his mind.
Ambrose too then looked over the map, and wondered whether there are others looking at them in the room.
Over at Barbro's encampment on the hill…
"What are we waiting for?! We have been waiting for this rain for days!" Barbro was losing patience with the tactical decisions of his commanders, choosing to wait out the rain.
"The rain got too heavy, and it's starting to wash away some of the bodies. The men could barely walk, and we spotted some cannons in the distance." The army captain, dressed in the royal arms of Re-Estize answered, hoping the long answer would convince the new anxious King.
"It's just a few cannons, we have way more people than them! Just charge at them!" Barbro seemed a little bewildered at his men's cowardice.
A large, muscular and fearsome warrior looked at Barbro, and next to him, even the new King looks small. A minor Lord with a lineage of great warriors and strategists of the Kingdom, he led the vanguard in prior skirmish, but commanded the men to make a retreat once the rain got too heavy. Perhaps the King didn't expect the muscular man so large to have so little courage.
He didn't seem too keen on explaining why he commanded the men to fall back. "It's a trap, my Lord. Zanac wants us to give chase and for us to get in range of the city's cannons and ballistas. The rain and the mud makes it hard to dodge any arrows, rocks or spells they can throw at us from the walls. They must have planned this!"
"So what if it's a trap! I'm not waiting here and let them wait for reinforcements! Raeven is raising another army as we speak! We have more men! Just send them in and crush them before Raeven gets here!"
Barbro was technically right, as with their numbers, they could close in.
"Yes. Once this rain stops we can move in quickly." The rain outside though, didn't look any bit like it is giving way. The sky was dark grey and greenish, and the winds roared so much, that even heavy tipped arrows get redirected midair.
Another captain, the leader of the siege weapons seemed hesitant to agree. "The siege weapons can't move so quickly in the wet ground! We shouldn't split the army and the siege weapons, we'll be defenseless! If anyone tries a sneak attack, we'll lose our siege weapons." The captain implored.
"Split the forces, and lead one team to charge in. I am not letting Zanac have the luxury of fortifying his city. The other team will stay back and escort the siege weapons." Barbro commanded.
The captain seemed hesitant, not too eager to have the forces split. "It might be a trap. They might want to split us up."
"I am the King, my word is final, Captain!" Barbro shouted, and the captain nodded hesitantly.
Barbro looked over the map of the city of E-Libera, with little wooden figures representing where Zanac's men were fortified, and where his own army was. He had heard words from that Boullope's army is approaching the capital, and he was pressed for time. His commanders wanted to wait, but waiting meant Boullope's army gets nearer each and every day.
"The emissary we sent over to meet Boullope…" An advisor spoke softly, but couldn't continue.
"That idiot. I knew something was wrong since the day he betrayed me during the Noble's meeting." Barbro smacked the table, and looked at two of the Eight Finger operatives in the camp. He did not forget the slight the Prince suffered when Boullope supported the ceasefire with Necropolis. "Have your men infiltrated E-Libera? What's going on with your assassins? Losing their touch?"
"Yes… but Prince Zanac is very well protected. A few of Raeven's personal guards are at his side at all times." The dodgy looking operatives stated, his face covered with tattoos on one side, and amongst the nobles and the army captains, he stood out like a sore thumb. Then he flashed a wicked grin, "But the Six Arms will get to him."
"They better, or you are not getting any of that money, or a return of that slave trade."
The two Eight Finger operatives looked at each other, wondering whether they should've just killed Barbro instead. But it's a thought they entertained momentarily, as Barbro is still a useful ally in restoring Eight Fingers to its glory days. Zanac on the other hand was less willing to work with the Eight Fingers, preferring to retain control via conventional means, so Barbro still had great value in legitimising the Eight Finger's vice trades.
"Yes, your majesty." It's a trained skill, after years of telling lies and working with people they don't quite like. "The Six Arms will get to Zanac."
Barbro turned back to the captain, and grabbed him by his shirt. "I don't care how many people die, or how big the rain is. Go out there, and get the men marching, or I'll have your head chopped off."
The Captain's face contorted, but he gave in. "Yes… As you command." The Captain walked out into the rain, and commanded the men to head for E-Libera.
Northernland campaign
The war room's walls are bare, and simple. Hastily converted from what was once the dining room, it has a table large enough to fully lay out the map of the entire northernlands in sufficient detail. Here, the brains of the north get to work, processing intelligence reports from scouts stationed all over the border, and then they craft the defensive positions to be taken. With their numerical disadvantage, the northernlanders needed to be strategic about troop placement.
It's usually very noisy as Erik's chain of command would be busy discussing the latest progress from the Kingdom's advances, especially with the recent movements by the new King Barbro.
But despite the horns outside, it was an eerie silence in the room, broken by a scream when Erik stepped through those doors.
"Erik, run!" An injured subordinate yelled, his body bleeding as if impaled by a various knives. Around him was a few other of Erik's subordinates, but before the injured guy could continue talking, a floating scimitar stabbed him at his neck, silencing him.
Erik's heart skipped a beat...
... and the door shuts behind Erik.
"You're pretty handsome. I like mature men."
Erik turned and saw a lady with floating scimitars around her. She had long black hair and features that hinted at a somewhat Persian heritage. The floating scimitars all dripped of blood, and were made of some kind of black metal, and they orbited the lady like a protective ring.
"Kinda sad I have to kill you."
"Who sent you." Erik withdrew two daggers from his pockets, and attempted to defend himself against the 5 dancing scimitars.
"The Prince, of course. Oops, I mean the new King." The lady quipped. "I'm still not used to referring to him as a King."
The scimitars left their orbit one by one, and they flew at high speeds towards Erik, spinning and slashing the air.
He parried. And parried again. But as more and more scimitars surround Erik, his holes in his defenses started to bite, as they slashed, and cut.
[DANCING BLADES]
The lady, Edstrom of the Six Arms, smiled. Erik was an adventurer, and his skill with his weapon shows in that he still managed to block a few of her scimitars, but he was nowhere near her level. Once all the five scimitars flew around him, Erik started getting cuts and his wounds began to bleed.
Erik tried to block the scimitars, but the 5 scimitars was too much for Erik to handle, and a few deep cuts landed despite his dodging.
[IRON SKIN]
[BOOST]
Erik tried to protect himself, but the enchanted scimitars still cut him easily, and remains outmatched by the lady assassin.
"Urgh…" Erik's movement became more sluggish, and gradually he's taking direct blows from the flying scimitars. Each time, a bit more blood splattered, and his reaction slowed.
And then his time came.
"Die." And the scimitars impaled Erik through the heart, one from the front, and one from the back. Blood then splattered out of his body, and he collapsed onto the cold floor.
Edstrom approached the body, and stabbed a scimitar through his neck. More blood poured out of the wounds, and onto the floor.
The General of the Northernlands, has fallen.
I rewrote this chapter so many times. So frustrated at it XD