"Loyal, honourable, shameless, eccentric."
"These are some of the words which embody House Aurellion."
"No action is too shameful in the name of loyalty."
"Honourable conduct varies from perspective to perspective."
"How I rue the day we lost such a house."
"For their fires, I must now douse."
"By their hands, my empire is now in flames."
"And for it, I am to blame."
Emperor Flavius Crestier 2nd Emperor of the Chavarian Empire
....
After 1 hour of waiting, the bitter-cold rain began to bite and seep through the shivering soldier's skin as they waited in the cold rain for an attack which may not come. The welcome sound of a crude horn led to a wave of relief washing over them after being dismissed from their toil as they dragged their dripping and dreary bodies to their tents which stand in an orderly manner in the speedily constructed camp.
The Plurian human soldiers washed by the ice-cold rain slowly helped their more exhausted and weaker comrades back to camp as they weakly clung to the helping soldier's shoulders as they tried to muster up their last reserves of strength and not just fall asleep instantly the constant alertness and attacks by the enemy combined with the laying and being out in the rain for the past hour exhausting them mentally.
The orcs, by comparison, were faster with none of the weakness that the Plurian army showed. Their higher strength, endurance and physical traits helped the exhausted orcs drag themselves back to camp in a much more dignified manner, with each orc being able to go alone and not needing the comradeship that was shown and present in the Plurian army. However, once back in their hastily built tents, both races collapsed immediately into a deep sleep, trying to recover and battle the overwhelming fatigue in their bodies.
While sleeping, their minds and dreams were filled with their drilled positions and the daunting figure of a shadowy Chavarian soldier as they raised their steel swords to cut them down, the steel cutting through their flesh as they fell back to the ground of their dream world. Weapons of all types could be seen scattered and clutched in the hands of sleeping soldiers, some held crude sheathed cleavers, others clutched the long wooden shafts of pikes, their pointed iron tips pointing out of the flap of the tent, while those in the Plurian camp held their much finer steel weapons in shivering hands as they slept off the exhaustion of their long march.
The sound of rain beating down on cloth resounded through the command tent as Bardornus and Wurgoth discussed the battleplan for the future, their eyes red from weariness as they both fought the urge to sleep well aware of their responsibility of keeping the army safe in the night to come. Sure, of a night raid, Bardonus began to summarise the rather bleak situation that the allied army was in while their exhausted army slept soundly, their loud snores even infiltrating the command tent every now and then.
"We are situated 2 hours away from the Chavarian camp, meaning it will take 4 hours for a round trip to come here and then back to the Chavarian camp. If we include scouting and then mobilisation time, it will take the Chavarians about 6-7 hours for our men to rest before we are attacked!"
Bardornus said, trying to calculate the time the allied army had to rest before the inevitable night raid.
"You don't think that the Chavarians will attack as soon as possible and immediately gather their spare cavalry that has not fought yet to attack us immediately before we have much time to rest or recover."
"If it were a different general, one who was much more reckless like a young noble commander looking for glory quickly, then I would set up an ambush quickly for him to walk into however we are facing the spider."
"But that cunning general is cautious. If I were him, then I would let my enemies sit in the gold rain for a few hours, let the cold wind and rain sap all strength, then when they are too tired from waiting, then I would come on them like a thunderbolt hit them hard and rout them and slaughter them in the ensuing chaos."
Bardornus said as he brought out a map of the nearby area provided by his ally, The Kingdom of Nadron.
"Also, being a cautious general, he would want to scout out our positions first, considering that the scouts would take 4-5 hours to come back to him and then he would need to spend another 2 hours to get here, giving us enough time to rest and recover our strength."
Bardornus finished his calculations and estimations based on his enemy's personality as he made accurate predictions about Lucius' movements.
"Our men are extremely exhausted to the point of sleeping on duty, so we will need scouts to check on where the Chavarians are and when they will attack; otherwise, we may be sleeping when they attack, which will be catastrophic even if fire cannot be used in the attack due to the rain."
Wurgoth said, not disagreeing with the plan and analysis his ally had made but still wanting to add precautions to ensure they cannot be caught unawares.
"Agreed! we should send out differing scouting parties with a unified communication system so that if one is in distress or has information, then it can be transmitted seamlessly between the armies as our armies are camped separately, and so none of us is caught off guard."
"I'll send Captain Allvar over once he has got my scouts together to go over the shared signals. Is there anything else we need to discuss?"
Bardonus said, coming up and improving the plan to use scouts to verify the movements of the enemy and asking a final question as he turned to leave, not expecting an answer to come from the Orcish player who said something that made his heavy boots fall silent as stood motionless in place his blue cloak fiercely blowing back due to the great gale that suddenly broke through flaps of the tent.
"Yes, the supply situation in the camp is not the best, especially when it comes to the water supply."
Wurgoth said in a severe tone, his face grim as he gave the bad news to his ally.
"Has something happened to the water supply? I thought, with the rain, there would be plenty of water for our army to use as the streams and rivers would overflow with water due to this damn exhausting deluge."
"Oh, the streams and water supplies are overflowing quite nicely, but…."
Wurgoth sighed as he motioned his hand towards the entrance of the tent.
"It better for you to see for yourself. Bring him in!"
Wurgoth shouted as 2 crudely armed guards entered the tent dragging a green-skinned body into the tent, as the stench of death filled the air. The orc, once hale and hearty, was now a soft pile of flesh and bones, the whites of his eyes showing as the workings of a mysterious poison ravaged his body, slowly sapping his strength until he fell into an eternal sleep.
"WHAT!"
Bardornus exclaimed as he turned around and saw the lifeless body decayed by a vicious poison which contaminated their water.
"So that is why our water supplies were hit!"
Bardornus said, a feeling of euphoria washing over him as suddenly it all made sense to him. Why would the Chavarins not attack the Plurian army, which no longer had crossbows to help defend themselves against the Chavarian horse archers? But instead went for their supply convoy to try to destroy their water and food supplies.
'Thank god for that rain!'
Bardonus thought as he imagined tens of thousands of flaming arrows falling and burning their food and grain supplies which would helplessly burn along with their carts in the blazing hot sun.
"Lucius really is smart to think that he would use skirmishes and men as a front to raid our supplies."
Wurgoth said, assuming that the skirmishes were a front for them to hit their supplies.
"No! Do you know what's more terrifying? It is that none of the moves and attacks we saw was fake instead, each was accurately planned, and each one was a real attack!"
Wurgoth turned his head to the side with a questioning look on his face as he gazed at the middle-aged general, and Bardonus continued without Wurgoth having to ask for an explanation.
"Each of those attacks was real! Designed to test our strength and do what damage they could and if they could not do much damage, attack our supply lines to force us to attack them, especially if they were on a hill, at which point we could starve them for water and wait them out for a few days until they surrender."
"Not one was fake! Each was real and would have continued if they could have and led us into a trap as they did to your wolf riders."
"This is the style of Lucius Aurellion, a large web of strategies, each one real with some fake ones and what is worse is we have willingly entered his web of lies."
"At first, you think that all he wants to do is lower the numbers in our army to make it a fairer fight however, behind the scenes, he orders his general to hit our water supply while positioning all our other avenues of getting it to force us to attack him in what I imagine will be a strong defensive structure or line."
"Anyway, farewell, General Wurgoth. I'll take my leave now!"
The middle-aged general said, continuing out and heading back to the Plurian camp.
After thinking for 10 minutes and getting confirmation that Bardonus has left the camp, the orcish general sits on a crude chair in his tent. An old battered small wooden table was in the tent with a parchmented report sitting on it as he lightly tapped his large bulgy green on the table however, due to the great strength of his character, the taps sounded more like loud thumps as the noise resounded around the tent.
It was then that a call from outside the tent caught Wurgoths attention and broke him out of his thoughts.
"General, there's a man who wants to see you says he has information about the oncoming attack from the Chavarians."
"Is that so?"
The Orcish general said as he stood up with hands held behind his back and calmly replied to the guard outside.
"Drag him in! Let's see what he has to say!"
"Bring him in!"
The guard outside said as two orcs dragged a bedraggled man in, his hair soaked from the rain, an empty sheath showing the caution that the orcs had with the man as his steel sword was taken away immediately after he was caught and told of his purpose.
The linen clothing covering his leg was ripped, as an arrow-shaped hole could be seen piercing through the soft linen and in the man's flesh that was lazily healed by the orcish doctors in the military camp, not knowing if it was worth their time to heal him properly.
A few bruises could be seen on the man's face, evidence of his rough treatment when in the captivity of the orcs.
"What is it that you want to say to me?"
The orcish general asked while sharpening and playing with a cleaver in his hands, an intimidating toothy grin graced his rough face as he sent a predatory gaze at the man in front of him, who audibly gulped as he imagined the many grisly fates he could endure if he did not give an answer which satisfied the large orc.
"I bring a message from Vice General Lindorus of the Chavarian army to give intelligence on the movements of the raid which will take place tonight."
The man who seemed to have a less well-toned body as he responded to the orc's toothy grin with his own scheming smile.
"Is that so, and why should I trust your Vice General? This could be a vicious scheme from that shameless spider! How the fuck am I meant to trust you? Also, who the hell are you."
"I am a servant and bodyguard to the young master Lindorus, and my name is Gerindin."
"Does the esteemed general think he is the only one with a grudge against that damn spider! My own lord was viciously beaten and humiliated over just being a bit late after making sure the camp was in good order, and to think that that common-born trash beat him is not only insulting towards our esteemed ducal house but to all high nobility!"
The man shouted as if the thing he had just said was the most righteous thing one could surprising even the orcish player, as the servant looked at him with bright eyes like those one would see on a religious fanatic.
"To think that such a travesty happened to the young master grinds my gears!"
'So the Chavarian general keeps a well-disciplined army and is fair and just, which is problematic, but he pissed off the nobility in his army, which may present an opportunity for him.'
"To think that such a travesty happened to the young master grinds my gears!" "He even does his dirty hit-and-run tactics and sits on a damn hill defensively instead of engaging in an honourable field battle! Such filthy tactics are only fit for such low-born scum as our damn general!"
'Is this noble an idiot? A straight-up normal field battle is in our favour as we outnumber you twats two to one! Thank you, benevolent game, for giving me such a stupid opponent.'
However, Wurgoth, still not convinced, continued his interrogation of the seemingly stupid man.
"Why would you betray your own country and countrymen to your enemies even if Lucius was as shameless and dishonourable as you see surly nobles such as your young master would put loyalty to the country first."
Wurgoth said as he swung his cleaver towards a metal brazier which lit up the tent behind the shaking man.
CLLANNG
A loud clanging sound resounded through the tent as the smell of a man soiling himself lingered in the tent, as the man looked pale-faced and terrified at the orc in front of him who had so casually swung his cleaver, almost taking Gerindin's head off with his vicious swing. The brazier, which was hit by the powerful orc, was sent flying as fast as an arrow outside of the tent, the burning coals scattering on the wet grassy floor as it flew through the door and clattered on the wet saturated ground outside the cold rain, causing a plume of steam to come from the black metal object as it quickly cooled it down.
The guards didn't even flinch as the metal object flew past them, used by now to their general's antics, as one casually said.
"Appears the meeting is not going well!"
One commented as he sighed audibly.
"10 coppers on that skinny man's head flying out next?"
The orc said, smiling cruelly at his fellow guard.
"You're on! "While our general does have quite a bad temper, he is not stupid."
"A good cleaver."
Wurgoth said casually to himself as he seemed to admire the cleaver in front of him, not noticing the sweating, shaking and soiled man in front of him.
"Is something the matter? You don't look so good?"
The orc asked in a kind tone as he smiled viciously at the man, noticing the unmistakable expression of fear on the man's face confirming that his actions had the effect he was looking for.
"Now, please give a better answer than the stupid one you gave before, or the next slash of Sasha won't be aimed at one of my lovely braziers."
The orc general said casually as he played with the crude steel blade in his hand, the skinny human's life hanging by a thread.
Gerindin took a moment to calm himself down and tried to purge the fear which had taken over his body. The large orc general in front of him suddenly seemed to grow horns in his view as if he was a spawn of hell.
"Lucius will be personally leading the troops in the night raid. My young master is hoping you can kill him so that he can take over the army and settle things in a much more honourable manner. He also disagrees with such shameless tactics and will tell you when it is happening out of principle."
Gerindin said, revealing the true motive for his presence but adding on the last sentence to make himself sound more justified.
'Finally, it comes out!'
Wurgoth thought to himself, happy to have gotten a much more logical answer.
'So not only does this noble have a grudge against Lucius but thinks that he can take control of the army once he is dead to think that the shameless spider would give me the hilt of the sword that will gut him!'
"Once you have told me what you know, you will stay here until I have confirmed this information, and if it is wrong, well, let's just say we will have to be very creative about your excruciating demise."
Wurgoth said, a vicious glint in his chestnut brown eyes.