The Old Bear and The Young Raven

Chavaria is full of talent,

Most of them are quite gallant.

With a monarch who is sage,

They brought about a golden age,

Forged in the fire of war,

So big one cannot ignore,

The great empire of Chavaria,

Other countries look on with envy,

Though most act submissively.

Onwards! Onwards they ride!

Swarming like a great tide!

A Nathian poem about the Chavarian Empire's founding.

…..

Over the 3 hours of constant riding towards the Chavarian camp, the skies had changed; gone were the blue skies and white fluffy clouds and the blazing sun beating down heat onto those below as a mass of black clouds brought the promise of the sudden flash of crackling thunder which faintly boomed in the distance as a torrent of rain descended from the heavens making for depressive companionship. Horses began neighing in worry, uncertain of the dark omens the torrential rain brings, only calmed by the sweet words of caring riders that were spoken into their elf-like pointed ears.

The promise that the rain brought with its foreboding dark, murky grey clouds unsettled both man and beast alike as a sense of dread fell over them, the coming battle promising to be a hard-won brutal one.

Lucius, disheartened, wet, and in a mood as dark as the black clouds which covered the skies above, finally made it back to the Chavarian camp. The long ride in the rain tired him as he and his accompanying 200 knights rode past the now-fortified encampment.

Small wooden watchtowers were built in the corners of the encampment, leaving scattered stumps of trees used in its construction and allowing a clear view of the rolling plains that stretched below the hill where the fortified encampment was set up.

4 large open wooden bridges had been built upon a deep ditch which surrounded the hill allowing for many ways in and out, the rain creating little muddy puddles in the defensive trench as men collected the brown water and boiled it to get rid of any parasites to help prepare them for the inevitable battle for supplies.

A stout wooden gate with wooden walls attached to the turned-over carts formed a primitive defensive barrier providing a difficult obstacle for any attacker who tried to assault the hill.

Riding through the gate, Lucius could see the men hard at work, taking breaks now and then in tents which were impressively and neatly lined up over the hilltop and partly down the hillside as they braved the rain, setting what containers they could outside to help collect the fresh rainwater.

"Captain!"

Lucius called out loudly to the knights behind him. A knight who was just behind Lucius on his left moved his wet crystal white horse in front of his general, giving Lucius a good look at the captain's helmet, which covered his face and was identical to his brethren, as a crimson cloak blew slightly from his shoulders in the wailing wind and his armour clinked slightly as he gave the general a salute.

Lucius shuddered a bit as he looked upon the faceless man in front of him and tried to look into the man's dead eyes, which seemed to radiate killing intent permanently, wondering what training was required to build such a monster-like warrior.

"Take the bodies and find all the streams and large bodies of water nearby and throw them in and take some other things to spoil the water just in case the bodies do not pollute it enough. We need to try to lower their supplies as much as possible."

"Yes, General!"

The man replied in a deep grouchy voice as he led the 200 knights back out of the camp and began the search for water sources in the torrential rain. After riding into the centre of the Chavarian camp, Lucius dismounted and gave his horse to a nearby soldier before heading towards a large command tent that acted as his place for strategic meetings and as his temporary abode.

In the large tent was the same large table with a sprawling map over its rough oaken wooden surface and another smaller table for him to eat on and do any paperwork an army commander may need to do, such as battle reports. Outside the tent stand 2 motionless royal knights in their identical armour, which takes away any individuality they may have had in the past.

After sitting at the small table, Lucius called out to the guards outside his tent.

"Call the quartermaster to come to me with a report on our supplies as soon as possible, especially to do with any water or other drinkable beverages the army may have stockpiled.

'Don't want to be stuck up a hill, slowly dying of hunger and thirst! After all, I'm pretty sure some guy said that logistics is half of war! Even if I am wrong, it still plays a large part!'

Lucius thought to himself, hearing one of the guarding knight's armour clinking further and further away until only the howling wind outside could be heard as the knight went to give the general's orders to the quartermaster. Lucius then started to give orders to the other knight guarding the outside of the command tent.

"Ask Lyndon and Archtorius to come to the tent, please. We need to talk about the upcoming strategy and what we have learnt from our skirmishing with the enemy army."

After 5 minutes, heavy footsteps could be heard from outside the command tent as Lyndon, commander of the infantry, entered the tent, a slightly older grizzled man, his hair showing his older age being a slight shade of grey. His heavy plate armour clinking and clanging with each movement he made, hiding the man's large bulging muscles granting great strength to the ageing man who wielded a tremendous curved glaive with a hook-like end. Lyndon towered over Lucius, being of similar height and martial skill as Lucius' most loyal friend and subordinate. However, unlike Leon, his eyes glinted with intelligence and a slight, almost undisguisable, killing intent.

Lyndon looked over his general, his sharp eyes catching the slightly dented red bloodied armour that Lucius was wearing as when he got back to camp, Lucius immediately went to business and did not care about his rugged appearance through his fighting on the battlefield.

"Are you ok, General? It appears that your skirmishes have hurt you more than expected."

An old, gruff, and slightly hoarse voice said to the general as he bowed respectfully and greeted his general.

"The orcs were more valiant than I thought! Even managing to injure me! Luckily, after we got out of range of their anti-magic array and the enemy started to use magic to heal their troops, I got a healing magician to help seal it up though the wound managed to leak for a while and is the reason why I'm taking a break now on this very comfy stool."

"It's either that or I have been scheming for too long that it has made me forget how to fight well, for they don't call me the Spider of Chavaria for nothing!"

Lucius joked as the flap of the command tent opened silently, and a man in lighter armour walked into the tent almost unnoticed by the occupants as it was only the clinking of the armour of a knight guarding the tent who saluted the man who entered that alerted Lucius and Lyndon to the new intruder.

Looking up at the man who had entered, Lucius began by greeting the man.

"Archtorius, how have you been? I trust the archers will be ready for battle, for I will need them soon."

"Their fine general! How are you? You seem hurt! Are you all right?

The man asked his general, noticing the dented, bloodied armour that Lucius was wearing.

"I'm fine! I'm fine! No need to worry about me! It was just an axe from a particularly valiant orc who got skewered to the ground by Leon's spear, nothing too fancy."

Lucius said to brush it off as he looked closer at the man who had just entered the tent.

Archtorius, commander of all the ranged soldiers in the Chavarian army, stood at 5ft 10, a yew longbow across his back with a raven pommelled steel sword at his waist, wearing a lighter steel chainmail armour compared to his more heavily armoured counterparts. His helmet is shaped into a raven's head as a surcoat depicting the colours of his house: a black raven on a navy-blue background layering over his armour. Black raven feathers decorate his pauldron's and hidden in a sheath across the back of his belt lay a dagger, its hilt inlaid with a black gem with ancient runes carved on the blade.

"It's a shame about Lindorus. He could have led the heavy cavalry and gained some experience, and I would not have been injured."

'I also would not have had to bother riding on that damn horse in the rain for so long! I can still feel the aching numbness on my ass from riding for so long.'

'Maybe I should have let him off with a lighter punishment. At least then, I would not be subject to the nightmares that will plague me from now on as I fight more and more battles!'

Lucius complained to himself internally after commenting on the battered Lindorus whose howling, pained cries still resound through the camp now and then when his wounds are touched by the military doctors who are even now still treating his bloodied back. Lucius' lazy personality from the real world coming through and taking over for a second.

"General, may I ask how the skirmishes went?"

Archtorius asked diplomatically.

"The first one went well! We managed to lure and almost annihilate 5,000 of the orc's wolf riders! If I were being generous, I would say that 500 would have survived as they were hit by our Chavarian knights from the front while being surrounded and shot at by the horse archers, a combination even Drusus would struggle to deal with."

Lucius began as he recalled the skirmish which had finished only hours ago.

"However, I was stuck from my mount by a valiant orc captain, which led to my injury and my exodus from the battlefield."

"Leon is in charge of any future skirmishes for the next few hours, though with the weather at it is, I have a better idea for how to surprise and deal with the enemies than sending him more men."

"Does it have something to do with attacking their weakened and exhausted forces general at night?"

Lyndon asked, his intelligence and experience in war showing.

"It does. After the meeting, could you tell the cavalry that remained at camp to rest and be ready to set off and fight at a moment's notice, please?"

"Yes, general."

The old vice general replied, cupping his fists together and bowing to his commander.

As Lucius was about to give Archtorius his orders, the deep voice from one of the knights guarding the tent could be heard.

"General, the quartermaster is here as you commanded."

The knight said, still standing motionless in the rain.

"Let him in."

Lucius shouted out towards the entrance of the tent, and a few seconds later, the wet flap of the tent opened, and a less muscled scholarly man came in, clutching a slightly damp leather-bound book beneath one arm as he bowed towards Lucius.

"You called for me, General?"

The scholarly man said, head bowed as rainwater dripped from his long-crooked nose, his clothing drenched in the rain as he shivered slightly from the cold that seemed to seep into his weak body.

"How many men do we have, and what is their distribution?"

Lucius asked so he could be reminded of what resources he has to work with for the coming conflict.

"Before your skirmishing and attack on the enemy forces, we had an army of 50,000 elite soldiers."

The man said as he opened the large book, which looked more like an ancient tome and began reading off the information that his general wanted from the black ink-filled brown parchment pages of the hefty tome.

"We had 20,000 horse archers, 10,000 heavy cavalry in the form of royal knights, 10,000 heavy infantry whose primary weapons are a spear and shield, 5,000 archers armed with composite bows and 5,000 crossbowmen to help punch through enemy heavy armour.

The man said, finishing his report before turning the page and reading again.

"This has changed due to you general and vice general Leon taking 10,000 horse archers and 5,000 knights to skirmish with the enemies. Though it appears the battle went well, so hopefully, our casualties will not be too much."

The quartermaster reported to Lucius as he waited for the next question that he would be asked.

"What's our supply situation?"

Lucius asked the quartermaster, his expression neutral as his mind began to work as fast as a train.

"Because we got to the battlefield first, we have enough supplies to hold out for 20 days, by which time it is hoped we will have reinforcements from the main army, which should be about 4 days away."

"Does that include water or any other means of keeping the men hydrated?"

"We have about 10 days' worth of supplies in that case, as normally we can get water from the many streams, rivers and other available water sources."

"When are we due to be resupplied?"

Lucius asked.

"In about five days, General!"

"Inform the team to send scouts to see if we are under siege, and if we are, then they are to turn back! We can't allow our enemies to get our supplies and use them against us."

Lucius said worried that all his efforts to drain the enemy supplies that he had ordered and would order in the future would be undone by losing their own supplies to the enemy.

"Yes, general! I will ensure our enemies will not steal our supplies and hinder His Majesty's great cause."

The scholarly man almost shouted, his heart inflamed with passion and his voice laced with a confidence that Lucius did not expect as he bowed and left Lucius waving his hand to dismiss the man. Lucius then turned to the man who nearly snuck into the tent and began to make some orders.

"Vice General Archtorius!"

"General!"

Archtorius replied respectfully as he bowed.

"You are to take your best scouts, keep tabs on the enemy army, and keep us informed if they decide to make camp early! Though I don't imagine they will, or they will be skirmished more and be exhausted by the time they get to the battlefield."

"You are to do reconnaissance only and not reveal yourself or attack the enemy for any reason! Do you understand?"

"Yes, general, I understand! I will make sure not to engage the enemy no matter what."

Archtorius said as he turned to leave the tent, and soon after, Lyndon followed him, leaving Lucius to his thoughts, a myriad of strategies going through his head.