After the announcement that the militia was going to war, the day passed quickly for Nefre, leaving him in a daze. He coped with it and tried to focus on the training at hand. It seemed that everyone was in the same state, and before even the usual halfway point of the exercise was reached, the instructor told everyone to stop and take the rest of the day to get themselves prepared for the following morning. It was a welcome break, and Nefre headed back towards the barracks quiet, not wanting to talk to anyone until he finally wrapped his head around everything. Thankfully nobody else seemed to like talking, which made things easier.
Back at the barracks on the bunks were the armor layout that the Guard Captain had told them would be there. Nefre ran his hand over the thick padded gambeson; while it felt sturdy, he doubted how much protection it would give from a sword. The boots were a standard fair along with the skullcap though it certainly wasn't new. At least it hadn't been hacked through from the last time somebody and wore it. With that, he sat down and laid back with a sigh, he heard others beginning to talk with each other, but he just tuned them out for the moment. His mind wandering back to the fields of his home for the moment, imagining how simple it would all be right now to be back there, cutting the wheat down and eating a meal with his family. So vivid at the moment, he swore he could smell the food and hear the crackle of the hearth.
He came back to reality quickly enough as plated boots thudded into the room, making Nefre sit up quickly, looking to the armored soldier entering and looking at those gathered. "Make your way to the armory to get your swords for tomorrow. Anyone who doesn't get one before the sunsets don't get one at all. Now get moving the Quartermaster is expecting you all." With that the knight strode out, Nefre found it odd they'd sent a knight and not a regular soldier, but then again, everyone who was part of the army had things to take care of today. Waiting for everyone to filter out, he got up and headed to the armory behind everyone, not in any rush to grab his weapon 'all going to be the same cheap blade more than likely,' he thought with just a little bit of entertainment.
It was a good guess on his part though not wholly right in the sense that most everyone got the same type of sword that would cut and stab, but it certainly wasn't high quality. However, he noticed that the two that had been standouts in his group got what seemed to be a better sword. That's when he realized there was a separate rack of swords with a list of names; he figured it was anyone in the groups that stood out. 'Might as well make sure the people with the best skill have better weapons to kill with.' It might have been a way to get them to consider already joining the army if they survived incentives for the talent they could use, it wasn't a bad idea though it did leave Nefre feeling that bruise on his ego that he wasn't anyone that stood out. He was just another man part of the militia who they wouldn't care if he died or not, that thought made him grind his teeth.
After receiving the sword and going back to the barracks to drop it off, he decided finally to head into the city, though he realized without any coin to pay for anything, it wasn't going to be worth it. Others had brought some money with them, and the thought had slipped his mind. Feeling defeated, he first went to the hall to wash up as best he could in one of the troughs before heading inside to catch an early dinner of bread and fruit, which seemed fresh, probably something for them before they went off to fight and possibly die. Washing it down with some water he just headed back to the barracks ready to turn in for an early night, tomorrow was going to come quick, and he knew it.
He wasn't the only one who had decided to do the same thing a few others were already in the barracks too. He shared looks with them and gave them a firm nod their eyes reflected what he felt, grim determination to live, and fear that simmered underneath the surface. Putting his gear someplace that it wouldn't be too in the way while he slept, he laid back and closed his eyes. Sleep came easy, but it was a restless sleep. Dreams of battles not even fought yet played in his mind, the sounds of swords clashing together, and the thundering hooves of warhorses as they drove into the lines. It was a blur of sounds and images that seemed to get louder and more frantic until finally, he woke up covered in a cold sweat blinking his eyes as he looked around, his heart beating rapidly inside of his chest. It was still dark outside and inside the room, though he could see the crack of some light in the distance.
It wasn't long before he could hear movement outside, the sound of clanking armor, horses, and a multitude of feet. It wasn't long before a Soldier came in rousing everyone up and telling them all to get dressed. Nefre got up and quickly put his outfit on, the gambeson felt a little cumbersome at first, but he got used to the weight pretty quickly. With armor on and the sword he had strapped to his waist, he was surprisingly the first out the door. Heading straight to the hall, was a different story today, women were out there handing sacks to people with some rations to take with them and a piece of bread with a little meat for the morning. Wolfing down the food, he headed towards the gate where they were all to meetup.
Getting to the gate and heading outside, his eyes went wide at the troops already assembling he hadn't realized how big the army was having been confined to mostly the training yard and barracks for the militia. Infantryman, swordsmen, mounted knights, archers, and he swore he even spotted robed figure he wasn't sure if they were priests or even wizards. Magic users, he had no experience with them, and people who could control such power unsettled him. Looking around more, he was waved down by a man in standard armor that didn't seem cobbled together. More thank likely actually someone important. Making his way over to the man, he stopped in front of him at attention. "Nefre of the Militia reporting." He said as crisp as possible, still almost overwhelmed by the army quickly coming together. "Captain Dauss. I'll be leading the militia into battle." Up close, he had a youngish face only a few years older than Nefre, with black hair and grey eyes. Nefre could only imagine he was the son of some minor noble who was given their rank
It didn't matter though Nefre listened to him all the same as he got in formation by himself, which quickly swelled to the rest of the militia after some time had passed. Soon the whole army was formed and ready to go. A man Nefre hadn't seen before on a black warhorse wearing black plate mail. On the horse, Nefre could tell that this man was taller than him, and while his golden hair seemed to shimmer in the sun, his sour face took away from any angelic look along with the scar running diagonally across his face from his head to cheek between his eyes. "Troops, we ride to Mirwood Plains. I General Abrius will lead you to battle, speeches can wait for now we move." With that, he turned and began to go. "Forward march!" The entire army began to move, Nefre right along with them.
Nefre had plenty of time now on the march to the plains to think a lot while the army lumbered forward. The plains weren't exceptionally far away, but under the pace of the massive military, it was going to take longer than if just one person was traveling there at any speed they chose. His thoughts mostly returning to the dream he had last night that played over in his mind on a loop feeling that dread rising until he finally pushed it down and stopped thinking about it. After that, it was just the long march towards the plains with only the thundering feet and hooves to occupy his thoughts. Marching went on for some time before they were almost to the plains, right north of the castle itself, Nefre realized that if the battle were lost here, there actually wouldn't be anything stopping the Ducomor army from cutting straight to the castle.
This point was driven home right as they finished there march through the small forest that separated the plains. Nefre with the rest of the militia was upfront, and at first, seeing the vast flat grassy landscape, he could see not too far off in the distance the army of Ducomor banners raised and war drums beating. They were there and already waiting for them. "Halt!" Came the booming command from Abrius, and quickly they halted. "Draw weapons, archers ready your bows; calvary get ready to break off and flank. We will let them charge first and rain arrows on them, then we will charge to meet them and halt their advance, cavalry will flank them from the sides. Men, this is for our kingdom, to lose here is to lose completely! Don't let these vile heathens take one step past us! Fill your heart with courage, know that Yden watches over you, and will bless the battle! This fight is not only for Glory; it is for the very salvation of The Kingdom of Lenwall itself!"
Nefre cheered with everyone else as he drew his blade, bringing it to the ready his eyes watching the army on the other side. The frenzy beating of their drums reaching a fever pitch that seemed to echo across the entire plains. Then it stopped, silence filled the air, tension built rapidly before on their side only the sound of a war cry could be heard and their army moved. The Battle of Mirwood had begun.