A Grand Design 31.

Winter. In The West Of The Kingdom Of Girdane.

It's early in the morning, on another cold winter's day here in the duchy of Isanor in western Girdane.
Duke Hilloc of Dalmar who has woken early, is standing upon a rise looking east, as the sun starts to come up over the horizon.
It snowed last night, not heavily. So that there's just a light dusting of it across the countryside. The duke of Dalmar guesses it will melt away sometime later today, especially if the wind picks up, as it often does here in the west of the kingdom.
The nobleman who is looking in the direction of the duchy of Wostin, the first of the central duchies in the kingdom, which is still out of sight at the moment.
Has been in a reflective mood ever since finding out that king Jarnard the Second is dead.
The duke, like his fellow dukes Korros and Lombasil, was in denial at first when they heard that the king of Girdane was dead.
But eventually he came to accept it, and that their rebellion against the crown had slightly changed for them.
For the man who raised their taxes in an unfair manner. Knowing that the three most western duchies of the kingdom couldn't afford them.
Is now dead, but things haven't changed. As the crown's army are still fighting them.
And now that there's reports that the regent of Oaklynn is sending at least half of his own army out west to fight against the trio of dukes who have rebelled against the crown.
And though the rebellion against the crown has changed slightly with the king's death. For duke Hilloc it has without doubt intensified.
For the man who is his brother inlaw, the man who married his younger sister Mera by force. Lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn has now committed his forces to fight against the rebellious dukes.
When by the law of the kingdom, the regent of Oaklynn is not allowed to send his forces beyond the countryside surrounding the capital city. Basically they're not allowed outside of the duchy of Marsin unless the kingdom is invaded by another nation.
And for duke Hilloc who is fighting for the people of his duchy, and their survival against the disproportionate level of taxes imposed upon them.
It was always more than that for him. For him, the rebellion is also because of his younger sister. Who he doesn't know if he'll ever see again. But he'll do his best to get her away from the man who forced her into marriage.
And as he stands there upon the rise looking eastwards as the sun rises on another winter's day here in the west of Girdane.
The duke of Dalmar clenches and unclenches his fists as he thinks about what he'd do if ever gets his hands on lord Sammis, the regent of Oaklynn.
Lord Hilloc then turns, and looks back at the camp. And spots his cousin sir Passic walking between the tents, heading this way.
The swordmaster is yawning, and has a sour looking expression on his face. The duke of Dalmar grins when he sees this, as his cousin was never particularly fond of waking up early.
"Another fine day by the looks of it" quietly says duke Hilloc of Dalmar when his cousin Passic stops beside him.
The swordmaster, who is the older of the two cousins, grunts as he looks eastwards at the rising sun.
"Hopefully that is an omen for us, and that things will bode well for us" adds the duke of Dalmar, who is the one the other two dukes, look to for guidance and leadership.
After clearing his throat, sir Passic says "Let's hope alright" then the older of the two cousins dryly adds "Since winter is the best weather we get all year, apart from it being cold and windy most of the time, you'd think we'd have good omens coming out of our arses".
Lord Hilloc chuckles, then says "You really don't like waking up early do you?". His cousin the swordmaster just grunts in reply to that as the two of them look to the east, watching the sunrise.
Then after a few moments of silence, and after sir Passic lets out an almost sigh like breath, the older of the two cousins quietly says "At least things change today" he follows that with "So that is something good really".
The duke of Dalmar nods in agreement, for today things do change.
As so far in their rebellion against the crown. The armies of the duchies of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar have yet to engage the enemy directly, or in numbers.
True, some of their forces have gone forward with the mercenary army from the lands Farque to fight against the crown's army.
But they have only done so in small companies, never more than a couple of hundred at a time from each of the dukes armies.
Now that's about to change, as field commander Drubine in the mercenary army form the nation that lies somewhere faraway to the south, who has command of the campaign. Has devised new tactics, and he now wants a number of battalions from each of the dukes armies to be involved with the fighting against the enemy.
Who aren't all that faraway, and by all reports, will be increasing in numbers as the regent of Oaklynn's army starts showing up.
After watching the sunrise for a little bit longer, the two cousins turn, and head back into camp, some of which has started to be broken down. As a fair number of them get ready to advance.
Some of duke Hilloc's army has already gone forward. And he along with his cousin Passic will go forward with more of them this morning.
Lord Hilloc will be going forward with at least half of his army, nearly five thousand soldiers. His fellow dukes, Korros and Lombasil will be going forward with similar sized forces. As they, for the first time, prepare to engage the enemy, the crown of Girdane who they've rebelled against.
After seeing to his command tent being pulled down, and packed up. Then speaking to a number of his commanders, duke Hilloc of Dalmar mounts up. And with his cousin Passic riding beside him. They're near the front of five of his battalions, who set off eastwards. Along with a similar number from the armies of the duchies of Girnath and Falosen.
After riding for a little while, the duke of Dalmar has a messenger ride back to tell the dukes Korros and Lombasil, whose armies are following. To come forward and ride with him.
And a little bit before midmorning, the two other dukes, and a couple of their officers. Are up near the front of the duchy of Dalmar's army.
"I wonder why they decided to leave half of our armies behind?" muses duke Korros of Girnath, the youngest of the trio of dukes who have rebelled against the crown.
"Just incase we're no good and we get wiped out" says duke Hilloc, the other two dukes and their officers look at him.
The duke of Dalmar shrugs his shoulders, then says "The young field commander Tamric Drubine admitted it himself" lord Hilloc follows that with "If we get wiped out in battle, at least there'll be half of our armies still around that he can command to defeat the crown's forces".
"That does wonders for the confidence" sourly says lord Korros, who though fairly short, is resplendent in his suit of heavy iron plate armour.
"He's got a point my lords" says sir Passic, who continues with "Most of our soldiers have little experience in warfare, and the only combat some of them have seen is fighting raiders from the unruled lands across the kingdom's western border".
The swordmaster who is the older cousin of the duke of Dalmar then adds "And those like myself who actually have experience in war".
Sir Passic who is a veteran of the battle of Vexil which was nearly twenty years ago, then says "Are already forward, fighting alongside the mercenary army".
The dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar all nod, as the smaller companies they've already sent forward, all consist of those who have experienced actual warfare in the past. Mostly being veterans of the battle of Vexil. When many of them were teenagers when they took part in the war that was the largest the Southlands had seen in four and half centuries.
Since the Holy Norstran Empire crossed the Great Western Ocean and invaded the Southlands. A war that lasted over two years, and only ended when the emperor of Norstran, and his main army was defeated.
Coincidently by the same person whose army has been hired by the three dukes of the duchies of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen in their rebellion against the crown of Girdane.
Soon they start encountering those in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, who are already on the road as they go through the duchy of Isanor, heading east towards the duchy of Wostin. Which is the first of the duchies in the central region of the kingdom.
The central region, where the duchies are smaller, and easier to travel across, even with the higher population they have compared to the western duchies of the kingdom of Girdane.
Especially the three most western duchies of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen. Which are the largest duchies in the kingdom, though the least populated. Not to mention they have the toughest terrain in Girdane, with the least amount of useable farmland.
Around midday, and their armies are ordered to stop. And the dukes Hilloc, Korros and Lombasil, along with their senior officers like sir Passic, are waved forward.
They ride through some fields, and go through some woods on a farm that's been abandoned with so many soldiers in the vicinity.
And with a squad of black clad soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, they're led up a hill, near the top of which, they're told to dismount.
The three dukes and their officers continue the rest the way up the hill on foot, and when they get to the top of it, there's a number of people already there.
"Hell" murmurs lord Hilloc as he looks to the east, he continues in a murmur with "By the gods" even though he's not a particularly pious or religious person.
While next to him, the younger lord Korros, who has been always been expressive, and doesn't hide his emotions, or what he's thinking, says in tone of astonishment "Damn, would you look at them all".
The duke of Girnath then loudly mutters "How many of the bastards are there?".
"About thirty thousand or so" says Tamric Drubine the field commander as he turns to look at the new arrivals, who have just got to the top of the hill.
"It's the bulk of the crown's army, and the mercenaries they've hired" continues the nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The duke of Dalmar looks at his cousin sir Passic, who has told him in the past that there was army well over three hundred and fifty thousand soldiers, made up from various nations, including Girdane, that attacked the city of Vexil nearly twenty years ago.
If lord Hilloc thinks the thirty thousand strong army of the crown just a couple of miles away is large, he can't even imagine an army well over ten times that size would look like.
After having a quick look around, the duke of Dalmar says "Will this area be a suitable place for a battle?" he gestures to the east between here and the enemy army and adds "There's some farmers fields down there, but there's also a lot of streams, and even a river, as well a few woods".
Lord Hilloc knows he's no expert when it comes to warfare. But even he can tell a lot of the terrain between here and the enemy isn't an ideal place for a battle.
"It will have to be" says Tamric Drubine who is more commonly called Tam by those who know him well.
"Because we will have to try and smash them before the regent's army starts showing up" continues the young field commander in the armies of Farque, who then adds "We're already outnumbered, but we'll be badly outnumbered once the regent of Oaklynn's army starts showing up in this part of the kingdom".
The trio of dukes nod in understanding, even though all three of them look worried at the prospect of the coming battle.
Seeing this, field commander Drubine flashes a smile, then says "Not to worry" he gestures towards the enemy army in the distance as he tells the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen "Who ever it is that's in command of that army is dead" he slightly pauses, then adds "Or they're about to be".
Lord Hilloc frowns as he wonders what the young field commander could mean.
Then the duke of Dalmar looks around, and notices that the elf in the white hooded cloak by the name of Helbe, who is always with field commander Drubine.
Isn't here on top of the hill, with the others who are usually in attendance of the young field commander.
Helbe the elven thief walks through the enemy camp, who have set up across the fields of a farm they've taken over.
The elven magic user who is blurred and shielded, looks around wherever he goes. Studying the enemy, and the way they've prepared for battle.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel thinks the crown's army is no better, or no worse than most armies he's come across in his lifetime.
He can see some of the companies in the kingdom's army are better than others. But some of the mercenary companies they've hired are clearly better than them. Being better equipment, and most obviously far more experienced.
The elven master assassin who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Figures he'll have to deal to some of the commanders of those mercenary companies while he's here.
But first, the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel has to complete the task he's actually come here for.
The elven masterthief heads out of their camp, to where the bulk of the enemy army have set up as they prepare for battle.
As the crown's forces knows the armies of the rebellious dukes from western Girdane are less than two miles away, behind a hill to the west.
Infact, on this clear and sunny, though cold and windy winter's day, some of them can be seen on the hill.
The highly talented elven magic user who has searched the command tent at the front edge of the camp, and been unable to find the commander of the kingdom's army.
Glances at his right shoulder, when Narladene the ground pixie appears on it, and quietly says to him in the elven language "I've found their general".
The naturally magical creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, who attached herself to the elven princeling a number of years ago in the city of Leeabra, the capital of the kingdom of Druvic, continues on with "He's up near the front of their ranks".
"What an idiot" murmurs Helbe the elven thief who shakes his hooded head, then the blurred and shielded elven magic user adds "Does he think himself a hero or something?".
That's exactly what councillor Reinholt thinks to himself a little bit later once he's made his way through the enemy ranks, to be near their forward positions. Where he finds the general in command of the crown's army.
Obviously a nobleman, in a suit of steel plate armour, polished to a bright sheen that it glistens in the weak winter sunlight.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril thinks it would probably make sir Percavelle Lé Dic a little envious at how bright it is, making the enemy general stick out like a sore thumb.
Though with the former earl of Lé Dic when he sticks out in any army making himself a target in his highly polished silver armour, and his snowy white cape.
He can back up his bravado with actual skill. And lets face it, complete dare do. As the former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che is more than a little bonkers.
Who also happens to have a powerful magical shield at his disposal. And a fairly powerful weapon too. That's if Dorc da Orc hasn't stolen it off him again.
The same can't be said for the general who commands the kingdom's forces here in the duchy of Isanor.
The elven magic user can tell without even reading his mind. He's not that experienced, and being under thirty, this is probably the first major campaign he's been in.
The enemy general is off his horse, speaking to a number of officers as they look to the west.
Helbe the elven thief is looking that way too. And when the young elven noble from Laerel sees some of his own army, and that of the three rebellious dukes. Start to come up over the hill to the west, and head down it.
He steps up behind the enemy general who has his full helm up off at the moment. And kills him with ease by slamming the spike puncher from the mechanism hidden in his right sleeve, into the back of the enemy general's head, at the base of the skull.
As the commander of the kingdom's army drops dead to the ground. The rebel army from the very west of Girdane, starts to pour over the hill less than a couple of miles away, and head this way . . . . . .