Flendle Manor, Early Summer of the Year 556 of the Runtallian Calendar…
THE CRIES OF the nocturnal cicadas coincided with the stillness of the crisp summer night, emitting a monotonous lull upon the outskirts of Flendle. Aloft, the sky was shrouded with dark clouds, ominous as it covered the shimmer of moon, denying all sorts of lifeforms below of its light. Peering through the windowpane of a drafty bedroom, extending his gaze towards the distant and murky horizon from where he sat at the upper floor of an edifice that deliberately centered the town on where he was temporarily lodged, Velmund tried to seek oblivion as he quelled himself from anxiety, causing him to forget even for the briefest of time he endearingly sought. Within a span of a minute, or more, he lay on this idle state.
A moment passed, and he was broken from his trance by a knock on the door. "M'lord, I apologize to interrupt," started a strained yet gentle feminine voice. Velmund recognized the source and granted her entry in an instant.
There was the clanging of iron greaves against the stone floor as the lady approached, halting a distance within earshot to initiate a tête-à-tête with the young man. The shapely figure of the lady, curvy features evident even as she was clad in dark plate armor with golden accents, kneeled before him, resting her clenched fist upon her bosom, signifying her respect. Before she had started to speak again, Velmund uttered in a forbearing manner, "The reinforcements from the other provincial lords, have they arrived yet, Frenda?"
"Yes, they have just arrived, m'lord," Frenda replied. "Few of the noblemen have heeded your call to arms, and nearly all of them offered the pretense of having their troops away from their own territories, either stationed on elsewhere or in participation in your father's defensive campaign. It is unfortunate that only the Count of Rondelle and the Baron of Falmundth had the generosity to sent us aid. The mustered troops total to a small contingent of four hundred men-at-arms and archers, accompanied by five knights."
Receiving the vexatious news, Velmund fought the urge to let his disappointment take over, letting out a sigh of distress instead. "Indubitably, the majority of the higher nobility in the region have no trust for my competence. That much is well understood. Who would blame them for not thinking otherwise? I have yet to prove anything to the Kingdom, after all."
"I beg of you, m'lord. Do not put yourself in such low regard. But as much as it pains me to say it, I shall concur with your judgment. Your father the renowned Duke of Regalia may have been the overlord of all Estveine, but your lordship held little to no influence among the eastern noblemen as of yet."
The young lord was aware of the doubts and distrust that the nobles harbored over him, hence he strived to be resolute at the time. "Indeed, Frenda. But be that as it may, nothing would come out with us dwelling in such trivial matter. Pray send Lord Roswalt and Lord Frenzell my sincerest gratitude. Thankfully, they had sent regular soldiers for me to work with, not peasant levies. With this new addition to our ranks, how is the town's defenses faring?" Velmund questioned.
Bright blue eyes flickered, reflecting the light from the hearth west of where she stood, the blaze soothingly crackled, lessening the draftiness of the room. She looked solemnly at him and said, "The town militia has been drilled and trained for the past few days since our arrival under the supervision of the knights in your lordship's retinue, and is currently gathering more able-bodied men across the nearby villages. We have previously accounted for some levies from the villages of Perrinworth, Nurpith, Rivendale, Hatskins and Merntaul. Aside from the local lords of those villages, it would appear that the rest of the lords of the manor are hesitant to send troops despite the imminent danger. Perhaps they are more wary about the safety of their domains from goblins now that vermin season is ripe. I would like to add as well that fortifications on the town's defensive structures have began."
"That is good for now. What of the enemy's advancement?" he asked, nervously, girding his loins for the worst of outcomes, begging, impossibly, that time would at least delay itself.
"Enemy scouts were seen plundering villages along the border, and the advance party has skirmished against our own forces, causing minimal casualties on both sides. But the entirety of their army is yet to arrive. And I believe that it is just a matter of days before they do so," she replied in a calm tone, without the slightest hint of wavering.
Velmund peered the bench in front of him, moving his eyes to a parchment between piles of scrolls and other books. The parchment contained the map of the entire duchy, depicting topography and geographical features. As he intently stared at the map, several thoughts swirled and spiraled upon his already troubled mind. He found himself with questions of uncertainty; doubt about the consequences of his future deeds. Of what would his father think upon his failure, and, as important, the impression would he make that would carve up his image in the Kingdom as the Duke's son. As he pondered all these, recollections of what had brought him to this day had came into light at once.
Some weeks ago, Duke Gaverone Walruse had been in conflict with Dariun Drunzelle, a powerful Norsmundi tribal chief-thane and leader of the Shiradonii tribe– one of the four great tribes of Norsmund– over a disputed land on the northeastern frontier of the Kingdom. Rumors had it that the uninhabited land was discovered to possess a rich iron vein and other resources that would amount to great fortune, invaluable in both trade and warfare. Upon the discovery, the Duke had funded a venture to start the excavation of the said territory. Consequently, the aforementioned chief-thane was infuriated as he saw the miners, merchants and soldiers the Duke had sent flocking close to his territory and regarded it as an indication of an invasion. The Shiradonii tribe, infamously known to be warmongers throughout the realm, issued a direct challenge to the Duke's claim upon the land by means of conquest, resulting to a declaration of war against the Duchy of Regalia. The hostility was reciprocated by the proud aristocrat. Having the trust of the King as one of his most loyal vassals, the Duke was adamant on defending the land of Kurlon, and so was reinforced by the Royal Army to aid such endeavor. Together with the King's men, Duke Walruse secured the disputed land with a war host eighteen thousand strong. As a response, Chief-thane Dariun sought the help of the other great and lesser tribes to his banner to storm the possible extension of his domain, rallying nearly half of Norsmund against the Duke.
Battle ensued with no clear victor as several days, and eventually weeks passed by. Soon, the enraged barbarians decided to take the matter in a more extreme extent by sending a separate detachment directed towards the far eastern territories of Regalia. Hoping to break the stalemate on the battle in the northeastern frontier, the invading force was aimed to divide the Duke's army by attacking the less defended fiefs in the Duchy. Realizing the objective of this strategy, the Duke had refused to allocate any defense on the less valued territories, accepting it as a lost cause upon obtaining the disputed land of considerable importance. However, he was not to easily give the lands without as much as offering some resistance. Despite knowing sure defeat, the Duke sent his third son, the sixteen-year old Lord Velmund Walruse to defend against the enemies with his own retinue, the chivalric Order of the Raven Knights.
As the course of the events leading to the current situation unfold, the young lord took the necessary measures for his first battle. Inexperienced as he was, he had his trusted military advisor, the female knight Lady Frenda Ferndale, as well as his cousin, a valiant knight by the name of Lord Jurelle Walruse, to aid him upon such time of plight.
Standing from his seat, Velmund stomped back and forth across the room, running various simulations upon his head, polishing his plans whist finding flaws within his stratagem. Angst overwhelmed him, threatening to break his resolve like a fragile goblet that would shatter should he let go. Seeing the troubled mien of her lord, the overwrought knight approached and patted his shoulder, giving him a gentle gaze that seemed to worth a thousand words of encouragement. It alleviated some pain and comforted him, though partially. With the tensed young man at ease, Frenda softly whispered, "No matter how things end up, I would be by your side no matter what, my dear lord."
Velmund returned the gaze. "I apologize if I should worry you, Frenda. Nevertheless, I do have some concerns. If I may, might I remind you that since childhood you and I were an inseparable pair. You have always looked out for me, keeping me from harm. You were like the sister I never had. Please, won't you quit addressing me with lord when it is just us? Mana, your own sister and a dear friend of ours, calls me by my given name alone. I would be glad if you do so as well."
Frenda had not expected a trifling request be the subject of her master's discomfort. A smile flickered fleetingly upon her lips, and she took moments to decide. "If you wish it so… Velmund," she sighed. "But only so if we are by ourselves."
"Gramercy. That alone would suffice..." Velmund had said, cutting himself off when he was about to speak of his own fears and doubts in her presence.
With those brief words exchanged, she made sure that he was calm enough to be on his own temporary solitude, and soon after was hastily retreating the room to resume her knightly duties. Left alone at his quarters, Velmund had all time of the night to come up with a solution to see his predicament through with both his honor and stature as a noble intact, granted that he would still be alive after the encounter about to take place in the walled town of Flendle, where once his great grandfather was lord of the manor. Once again, he intently gazed on the map lying atop his bench, focusing his attention on the town's location. He examined it carefully, paying attention to each detail: the walled town at the center, neighboring dozens of towns and villages up north, the mountain ranges in the west, the long river stretching to the east that divided the southeastern lands of the Kingdom and the lands of Norsmund, along with some villages which names he had heard just recently, and the thick vast forest extending to the south that eventually stretched towards the Elven Principality of Dullahar.
Early this afternoon, Velmund received the report that a detachment of the barbarian horde had successfully crossed one of the bridges by the River Dalewood and had set camp near it, plundering the nearby villages of Nurpith and Rivendale to resupply. Sightings of the enemy scouts had caused some minor skirmishes as well, as Frenda reported to him recently, resulting to minimal casualties on both sides. Taking these incidents into mind, Velmund knew that the evanescent peace can only grant them so little time to prepare defense before the enemies march straight towards the town. So as a precaution, Velmund had ordered some of his mounted knights to ride to all the villages and towns to warn the people to evacuate, abandoning their homes in exchange for safety. Subsequently, leaving their homes unattended would risk pillaging as there was little time to pack up all their belongings in time before the impending incursion. Many were reluctant to comply, mostly merchants afraid of abandoning their wagons chock-full of goods, and local lords wary of their own estates. To his relief, however, it would appear that nearly all of the peasants had sought refuge to the town for protection, who despite their destitution chose their own lives over their meager fortune. As for the ones who decided to stay, the defenders of the town cannot afford stretching their forces to protect each village and town, mainly due to the defenders' meager numbers and the loss some of the much needed tactical advantages the walls of the town shall provide, nor can they meet in field battle lest they succumb to the enemy's numerical superiority.