The night sky was adorned with twinkling stars high above the suburbs of Tver, upstream of the Volga River. Having finished his patrol of the encampment, the Duke of Ivanovich ascended the slope to observe the distant city.
The vanguard of the Kingdom Army had already reached the front line, and by tomorrow morning at the latest, the entire force of 600,000 would have arrived. The Duke of Ivanovich's orders were to hold out until the morning, avoiding combat with the Rebel Army if possible, and to wait for the rest of the troops before launching an offensive.
"Ivan."
A sound of footsteps came from behind. The Duke of Tbilisi, his beard slightly curled, arrived at the front of the camp under the protection of several guardsmen and took up a position beside the Duke of Ivanovich: "How are things looking?"
"There's no movement in the city for now, and there's no sign of the 15th and 19th Cavalry Regiments stationed in the suburbs making any sort of attack..."
