the defenders planned a night surprised attack at the harpies nesting in the village claiming their prize, while the defenders keep them at bay the villagers are marching down the mountain to the port below the mountain.
The villagers are taking refuge in the forest grouping in a circle where the defenders are in the outer circle.
Corporal Knightly came to the Knights' campfire with the volunteers.
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"Gather around!" Corporal Knightly's voice rang out, commanding the volunteers he had summoned from the other campfire. They hastened to obey, forming a loose semi-circle around the flickering flames, where Ser Percival, Ser Cedric, Ser Gareth, and the captain himself were already seated.
"At ease, sit," the corporal instructed, gesturing for the volunteers to take their places not far from the captain. As they settled onto the hard ground, the knights' stern gazes swept over them, assessing the ragtag group with a critical eye.
The captain occupied the central position, flanked by his knights on one side and the volunteers on the other. Before him, etched into the dirt of the forest floor, lay a rudimentary map of the village, represented by an array of rocks and stones depicting various landmarks. However, the chaotic arrangement suggested that many plans had already been proposed and discarded, leaving them no closer to a viable solution.
Corporal Knightly wasted no time in erasing the jumbled map, sweeping the dirt clean with a few decisive strokes of his boot. Retrieving a sturdy wooden stick, he began to trace a fresh outline, meticulously arranging the stones and pebbles to recreate the village's layout.
"Okay, listen up," Captain Willem began, his voice cutting through the crackling of the flames. "I'm going to make this brief." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "As you can see, we can't stay here for any longer than a night."
Reaching down, he placed a larger rock in the center of the makeshift map, representing the now half-demolished courthouse. "Our last stronghold was destroyed," he explained grimly. "There is no place for refuge, not with the harpies now occupying the village."
The captain exhaled slowly, his breath forming a faint mist in the chilly air as he surveyed their grim circumstances. "We need to find shelter," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Leaning forward, he tapped the area near the map's edge, where the docks would be located. "The only shelter we know is the fish farm by the dock."
Straightening once more, the captain's gaze swept over the assembled group, his eyes burning with determination. "We need to act, and we need to act fast."
Corporal Knightly nodded in affirmation, taking over the briefing. "I have a plan," he announced, his finger tracing a path through the mapped village. "There are spark-powders and jars of flame oil in the cellar of the courthouse. The fact that the courthouse isn't engulfed in fire or exploding tells us that they are still available."
He looked up, his expression grave. "We will burn the spark-powders on the courthouse ruin, filled with wooden plank debris. We will light up the courthouse and the surrounding area with fire, scaring off the harpies."
A charged silence fell over the group as they absorbed the audacious plan, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across their tense faces. It was a daring gambit, but in their desperate situation, it might be their only hope of reaching the relative safety of the fish farm – and surviving the night.
Captain Willem leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he used the wooden stick to draw two parallel lines on the dirt map, tracing a path from the nearest edge of the Silent Forest to the mouth of the Monterei slope road. "We will set up fire lines on each side of the street, from the nearest spot in this village and leading straight to the mountain road," he explained, his voice low and measured.
Gesturing towards the mapped village, he continued, "It will create a firewall, protecting the villagers as they march towards the Monterei road and down the slope." His gaze shifted to the clusters of buildings represented by the arranged stones. "The fire will likely spread to the nearby structures, but none of the residential buildings are situated there, so the damage should be minimal."
A tense silence fell over the group as the captain paused, his expression suggesting a hitch in the plan. Phil was the first to voice the unspoken concern that hung in the air. "But?"
Captain Willem let out a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. "But the harpies have already occupied the village, and we can't get near the courthouse at the center, let alone access the cellar."
The assembled volunteers exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon them. Hjalmar, still riding the high of his victory over the muscular harpy, was the first to offer a solution. "We charge forward," he suggested, his voice brimming with eager spirit and newfound cockiness.
Ser Cedric, however, was quick to counter the brash proposal. "Charging forward through the forest and into the village would be suicide," he warned, his tone grave. "The harpies would swoop down upon us in the open field in no time."
Aden's gaze flickered towards the captain, catching the briefest glimpse of an unspoken truth written across the man's weathered features. It was a truth that Aden had dreaded – the captain intended to ask the volunteers to make the ultimate sacrifice. While he might be able to demand such a thing from soldiers sworn to the imperial crown, this ragtag group of prisoners valued their lives above those of strangers. They had agreed to fight solely for the promise of a Crown's Pardon, and what use was such a pardon to the dead?
Aden knew he needed to devise an alternative plan, and swiftly, before the captain could voice his unspoken intentions and potentially fracture the fragile unity of the group. Silently, he wracked his brain, searching for a solution that might spare them from the grim fate the captain had in mind.
"We sneak in," Aden proposed, his voice cutting through the tense silence that had fallen over the group. A sneak attack was an ideal choice in a crowded, structured area like the village.
Corporal Knightly shook his head, his expression doubtful. "They can see us from above," he countered. "We can't sneak into the village in broad daylight."
Aden considered this for a moment before adjusting his plan. "We sneak in at night, then," he suggested, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "They're practically blind in the darkness, aren't they?"
Captain Willem's brow furrowed as he weighed the proposal. "Not exactly blind," he cautioned. "And they can still hear us. We would be shredded to pieces by them before we even reached the courthouse." He paused, casting a glance skyward. "Not to mention, the sky is clearer than ever."
Ser Percival followed the captain's gaze, nodding in agreement. "Aye, the storm has ended, and the curtain of gloom has lifted from the sky."
Aden scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he studied the heavens above. A crescent moon hung in the inky blackness, casting just enough light to provide visibility in the night.
Suddenly, Gilbert raised his hand, a tentative gesture that drew the attention of the group. "May I say something?" he ventured, his voice tinged with hesitation.
The captain regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and impatience. "Okay, go ahead, Neckbeard. What do you have in mind?"
Gilbert straightened, buoyed by the opportunity to contribute. "When we were talking back by the fire, Kazama mentioned a farm near us where the harpies aren't present," he began, his words tumbling forth in a rush. "I also happened to see it myself when I retreated to these woods. The barn has many barrels."
The captain's brow knit in confusion. "And?"
Gilbert took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. "When I was a little boy, I used to have a lot of fun racing in barrels with my friends back in my hometown," he explained, a wistful smile playing across his lips. "I'd stick my head out on the side while rolling down the hill and follow the track all the way to my grandmother's house. Made my nana worried sick every time I came in a barrel." He chuckled softly at the memory before growing more serious. "Thinking about it now, after I grew up, I calculated that it was actually safer than riding on a galloping horse—"
Corporal Knightly's gruff voice cut through Gilbert's rambling. "Neckbeard," he interjected, his tone tinged with impatience, his mind still reeling from the tension of their harrowing ordeal at the courthouse. "Get to the point."
Gilbert blinked, momentarily thrown off by the interruption, before rallying once more. "Rolly Polly," he stated simply, his eyes alight with the spark of an idea taking shape.
A hush fell over the group as they digested Gilbert's proposed solution, their expressions ranging from skepticism to intrigue. The crackle of the flames seemed to grow louder in the silence, punctuating the weight of the moment.
It was a bold, even outrageous suggestion, but in their increasingly desperate circumstances, it just might be crazy enough to work.
The group fell silent as they considered Gilbert's unorthodox proposal, eyebrows raised in a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. The nerd acolyte, emboldened by the opportunity to share his idea, pressed on eagerly.
"How about we use the barrels?" he suggested, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "We get inside them and roll straight into the courthouse ruin from the edge of the forest."
A murmur of intrigue rippled through the assembled knights and volunteers as they digested the audacious plan. Gilbert, sensing their interest, elaborated further. "We race our way down to the courthouse."
Ser Percival stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze distant as he weighed the merits of the proposal. "Neckbeard was right," he mused aloud. "Those barrels are sturdy enough to hold a man inside. If one can steer the barrel properly, one needn't worry about crashing. The track is smooth, and in the worst case, if one does crash, they can still regroup."
The captain's brow furrowed as he considered the implications, his mind racing to grasp the potential advantages. "So we use the element of surprise, and the harpies won't see it coming," he murmured, his voice tinged with cautious optimism.
Gilbert nodded emphatically, buoyed by the growing interest in his plan. "Everyone must've done it at least once in their childhood days," he pointed out, a nostalgic grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Captain Willem's expression grew pensive as he contemplated the logistical challenges that lay ahead. "The hard part is getting out of the courthouse ruin and setting ablaze the buildings along the path," he cautioned. "You lads will be exposed. Burn the buildings near the courthouse first, then work your way to the furthest structures as close as you can to this forest."
A thoughtful silence fell over the group as they weighed the risks and rewards of such a daring maneuver. Corporal Knightly was the first to break the stillness, his deep voice cutting through the crackling of the flames.
"Hmm," the captain murmured, his gaze sweeping over the makeshift map etched into the dirt. "The Silent Forest ground is higher than the village."
Corporal Knightly's eyes widened as realization dawned. "The barrel would protect us from the harpies' claws," he breathed, his words tinged with a newfound sense of hope.
The captain looked skyward once more, studying the crescent moon that hung in the inky blackness above. Its pale light cast just enough illumination to fuel their daring plan, a celestial beacon guiding them toward a glimmer of salvation amidst the encroaching darkness.
At the beginning of winter, the moon often appears as a "waxing crescent" or "young moon." This means that only a small curved section of the moon's illuminated side is visible from Earth. The rest of the moon is in shadow, creating a slender, crescent-shaped sliver of light in the night sky.
The exact appearance of the waxing crescent moon can vary depending on factors such as the moon's position in its orbit and the observer's location on Earth. It is a beautiful sight that marks the transition into the winter season, often seen low on the western horizon just after sunset. The waxing crescent moon is a symbol of new beginnings and the promise of the changing seasons, making it a delightful celestial feature for stargazers and skywatchers.
The group fell silent, weighing the audacious plan and the inherent risks it entailed. Captain Willem's gaze turned skyward once more, studying the crescent moon that hung in the inky blackness above.
With a collective intake of breath, the group steeled themselves for the challenge that lay ahead. It was a risky gambit, to be sure, but in their desperate circumstances, it might just be their only hope of reaching the relative safety of the fish farm – and surviving the night.
"She might not be as bright as the full moon," he mused, his voice carrying a newfound sense of conviction. "But the young moon will give us enough vision for the task ahead—" He paused, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And for them as well."
A murmur of understanding rippled through the assembled knights and volunteers as they grasped the implications of the captain's words. In the pale moonlight, they would be operating on equal footing with the harpies, their visibility equally compromised by the celestial body's waning phase.
Captain Willem leaned forward, his finger tracing the path etched into the dirt map before them. "When we execute this plan, both us and them will be on equal footing when it comes to visibility," he reiterated his tone grave. "Hence, we must light up the courthouse and the buildings nearby to cover the villagers' retreat to the seaport."
"Aye, harpies hate fire and the heat will keep them away," Phil chimed in his expertise.
The captain looked up, his steely gaze sweeping over the group, gauging their resolve. "The firewall would protect and escort the villagers," he continued, his voice carrying a newfound sense of conviction. "They won't be lost, with firewalls blazing on both sides of their path."
A charged silence fell over the assembly as they absorbed the weight of the captain's words, the gravity of their situation pressing down upon them like a physical force. It was a daring, even foolhardy plan, but in their increasingly desperate circumstances, it might just be their only hope of salvation.
Captain Willem straightened, his shoulders squared and his eyes blazing with determination. "This may sound stupid," he admitted, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But it's doable."
The group fell into a pensive silence, the weight of their desperate plan hanging heavily in the air. Captain Willem, his brow furrowed in deep thought, suddenly snapped back to attention, his voice ringing out with renewed purpose.
"Okay, listen up!" he commanded, drawing all eyes towards him.
The captain surveyed the makeshift map etched into the dirt before him, his finger tracing the intricate details as he solidified their daring strategy. "This is our entire mission," he declared, his tone leaving no room for uncertainty.
With a sweeping motion, he drew a line from the edge of the Silent Forest straight toward the rock representing the courthouse. "Group one will roll down the hill with the barrels, get the spark-powder and flame oil," he explained, his voice resonating with conviction.
His finger continued its path, carving two parallel lines from the courthouse towards the Silent Forest and the Monterei road. "Burn the structures on both sides along the main street, from the nearest spot of the Silent Forest to the road down the Monterei slope," he instructed, his gaze intense.
Pausing for a moment, he pulled another streak across the dirt map, solidifying the final phase of their plan. "And group two will escort the villagers straight down to the seaport fish farm."
Captain Willem looked up, his eyes blazing with determination as he addressed the assembled group. "Then you lads will burn the flame oil and powderkegs, keeping the harpies at bay, and give us the signal when it is safe for the villagers to make their march."
Gilbert leaned forward, his excitement palpable as he elaborated on the daring scheme. "All we have to do is roll down from the path leading straight to the courthouse," he chimed in, his voice tinged with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.
"Yes," The captain affirmed, "Whoever reaches there first must open the hatch to the cellar and defend the others as they get out of the barrels and go inside."
The captain turned his attention to Ser Percival, his expression inquisitive. "Ser Percy, is there such a path near this forest which leads directly straight to the courthouse?"
A thoughtful silence fell over the grizzled knight as he pondered the question. "Ah yes, I think I know one," he replied after a moment's contemplation. "It's not straight per se, but as long as we follow the path and let gravity do the work, we won't have any trouble reaching the courthouse."
Gilbert nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Steering may be a bit hard, but we need our heads sticking out of the barrels as we roll," he added, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of gravitas.
The group exchanged furtive glances, their faces etched with a mixture of apprehension and determination. It was a daring, even foolhardy plan, but in their increasingly desperate circumstances, it might just be their only hope of salvation.
The flickering flames cast a warm glow over the assembled group, their faces etched with a mixture of determination and apprehension as the captain brought the meeting to a close.
"Okay, that would be all," Captain Willem declared, his voice resonating with authority. "Get ready. We will execute the first plan immediately. Corporal Knightly will take charge. The first group will sneak into the farm, and bring back as many barrels as you can."
He paused, his steely gaze sweeping over the assembled warriors, gauging their readiness for the daunting task ahead. "Are my orders understood?" he asked, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity.
A chorus of resolute voices rang out in unison, echoing through the stillness of the forest. "Aye, sir," the members of the first group affirmed, their words carrying the weight of their unwavering commitment.
The captain nodded, satisfied with their response. Turning his attention to those who would remain behind, he issued his next set of instructions. "Gareth, Kazama, and I will take the first watch," he declared, his voice tinged with a hint of weariness.
"So, what are we waiting for?" asked the Corporal, "You heard the captain, let's go!"
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