January 1731 City of Ber, Province of Ciresia, Osterian Empire.
The tent was quiet and grim. Four men sat one another, each one deep in thought, bearing with them the responsibility of thousands as they looked at the map before them, the field of battle they have chosen.
A man then broke the silence with a single puff of his cigar, the man whose graying hairs shows the exceptional years of service, one which had allowed him to stand as the head of the Fourth Drissian Army and the fifty thousand men in it, this was Lt. Gen. Weissman.
Such a man then spoke up, bearing with him documents, "Recent reports have showed a substantial amount of mages on the Osterian Army. Five hundred mages, to be exact."
He then crushes the cigar between his fingers, "So, with such information, I have gathered you all to come up with a plan we could all agree with."
He gives a grim nod, "One which would allow us to take initiative on this campaign."
"With all due respect, sir. This doesn't look like something we should fight so early in the war." A man then interjects, his steely demeanor demanding respect.
His blue eyes then roam the map before him, "Though if you insist on such, I believe that fortifying our position should be the most optimal solution."
He traces the lines on the map. "With enough fortifications we could hold on against them, though the fact remains that a counterattack would be costly."
"HA!" a man barks in laughter.
Red eyes greedily swallow the map before him, his expression irritated at the insinuation.
"You would allow us to sit like ducks!? Watching the enemy pelter us endlessly until they die from exhaustion. Is that really a plan or a DEATH SENTENCE!?"
Warner glares, "It is the best we have for the current situation. What we should do is cut our losses and attack once we have the initiative. This will cut down any unnecessary losses."
"BULLLSHIT!" The man stands, his red eyes glowing in anger.
"BECK! SIT DOWN!" Weissman shouts, his purple eyes glowing, meeting his.
Beck recoils in shock and clarity, before composing himself, suddenly aware of his turbulent emotions, one which he reins in, his red eyes dimming along with it.
"Apologies, General." He sighs. "The recent events have left me in less than stellar conditions."
He then looks back up, "But it doesn't mean that Warner's plan is any better."
Weissman nods, "Then explain yourself."
"Allowing the enemy to gain initiative is bad enough. But allowing their meager advantage to deter us and allow them free rein to do as they wish, as they let their mages come to bear, is just stupid."
Warner then crosses his arms in distaste, his back straight as he spoke, "Meager! Five hundred mages is enough to wipe out a battalion!"
"But not enough to force us into a stupid defensive!"
"Then what would you have us do? Charge in as they bombard us into submission?"
Beck rolls his eyes. "Of course not. What I want is a general offensive, something that will take advantage of their mages' lack of mental focus."
Weissman nods in understanding, "That is... A bit risky, isn't it? A general offensive against an enemy that holding a numerical advantage would leave our lines devastated."
"Not if we advance quick and far." He interjects, his hand tracing the supposed lines of their enemy army, "If we force their mages to take cover, we could halt any bombardment."
Weissman looks to the map, "How exactly?"
"The woodland behind them is dry, at least on their right flank, something that is easily flammable with enough power. We probably don't have the power to set it ablaze, but with a full on battle, any fire is a distraction."
He gives a bloody smile, "So, I propose we push forth with our left flank. Charge in with enough speed to force their mages on the back foot and strike them bloody."
Weissman nods in acknowledgement. "I see the merit in your plan. But we can only apply such a condition on their right."
He traces the center with his hand. "If we commit too much of our forces, we would leave the center and right flank vulnerable, especially with their advantage on mages. We would be defenseless."
"Then we should." Said another.
The three men look at the voice to see a man watching the map intently. His brown eyes were steady and focused as he taps his finger at the table, deep in thought as he made plans after plans in his mind.
He then traced their right flank. "We perform a combination of offense and defense. With Beck pushing forth on our left and Warner following right after defending the center."
"What? I don't believe we have the manpower to cover all of that."
Klein raises his head to look them in the eye. "We don't. What we have instead is a mage capable of taking on the right flank and holding back a tide of bombardment."
He locks eyes with Weissman. "Isn't that right? General?"
Weissman smiles, "Of course, it would be a waste of resources, otherwise."
"Wait! Are we really going to put all of our bets on this kid? We arent even sure if he's that good." He then shrugs, "I mean, sure he has the power but can he hold back despite the pressure?"
"I agree, sir. We have no basis on actual battle here. His capabilities remain unknown and even with the glowing recommendations from the Academy. Putting such responsibility on his shoulder is unadvisable."
"Nonsense! I am telling you about his capabilities. After all, why else would I promote him so quickly and so far?"
Klein, though, only nods before looking back to the map, "I see, then with the saved resources we have. We can effectively attack and defend against the Osterian Army, though whether or not it will hold depends on him."
Weissman then stood up. "Then does everybody agree with Maj. Gen. Klein?"
The three of them looked at one another, their eyes talking before nodding in synchronized agreement.
"Good, have Colonel Damien Renzellern here. It would be best if he's informed on what were about to do."