Chapter 8: The Battle Near Acorn Hall, Part 1

 Soldiers woke up as early as possible. That was something he learned rather painfully when officers yelled at every tent they'd passed by, throwing just about every insult they could think at the drowsy troops. 

 A mere two dozen minutes later, he found himself joining the recent recruits of the Loyalist army in basic training. He could not train with the Sellswords who were far more experienced than the common smallfolk he stood shoulder to shoulder with. He saw a myriad of faces from the assortment of men, both old and young, that stood before and around him. 

 A majority seemed excited; those were the young men, with most of them not appearing that much older than himself. The older recruits were apprehensive, fearful even. With how long the war had been going on he was surprised there still were old men to conscript. He noted the discreet looks they were sending his way. Now, standing under the sunlight, all could fully see him. 

 He ignored them easily.

 They were taught how to handle both the 'sword' and the spear though there was a clear emphasis on the sword. And by sword, he meant whatever shoddy equipment the men had which counted as short-reach weapons and not spears. Only a handful had swords, but apparently,, they would be joined by knights and some of the Sellswords due to the position they were to take in the infantry's formation. The army seemed predominantly made out of spearmen, however. 

 His guess was that the newer recruits were trained to become 'swordsmen' as the army clearly lacked those. He had heard that the Loyalist forces, more often than not, employed a shield wall formation where the majority of troops were spearmen. The shield wall would open up at various places within the formation to allow the opposing troops to pour in, whereupon they would then find the wall closing off behind them and would face the swordsmen positioned right behind the spearmen. 

 At least they would have more heavily equipped men around them, or otherwise, the strategy would probably fail given the current state of the 'swordsmen'. 

 That was apparently not a tactic the Riverlanders were familiar with, but rather one that the Boars had introduced. It had proven rather risky but could, during certain battles where the opposition would easily pour in the gaps, incur drastic losses for the Rebels. He did not understand the intricacies of such a tactic, whether that be its weaknesses or strengths but he did make a note to remember it. If he did at any point create his own company, he would naturally copy what he had already seen instead of blindly trying to come up with his own tactics. 

 He could not hide his disappointment when he heard he would be placed in the vanguard. He did have a horse but it could not be used for the cavalry as it was not a war horse or even a particularly sturdy steed in any case. The officer who had told him where he would be placed mockingly told him he should be happy to even have a sword. 

 He had also learned that the rebels relied heavily on archers and had taken heavy losses due to that over-reliance during the battle near the Ruby Ford. The Heavy Cavalry of the Loyalists had flanked the archers and destroyed their ranks. The battle was only lost because the enemy commander had effectively countered this shield wall gap strategy by use of the Sellsword cavalry. They had disappeared from sight, completely circled around the infantry and charged from the rear while the Loyalists' own Cavalry was still trying to flank. They had arrived before the Loyalist cavalry and broke the shield wall formation, forcing the cavalry to pull back and come to the infantry's aid. The remaining archers pelted the retreating army and the battle was won, but only barely. 

 Thankfully, that commander had been speared through the eye during the battle and had died amongst his men. Gideon had not been looking forward to meeting him on the battlefield when he had first heard of him. 

 During that rather long training, Gideon could sense a certain difference between his current endurance and the one he'd possessed a few months before receiving the system. It was noticeable if he truly sought to draw a comparison. His body in itself had not gained all that much muscle. The mere fact that Prowess could enhance his physique without him having to train was already extraordinary enough so he would not complain about the small changes. 

 For some reason, it also seemed that amid action, his senses were also slightly better now. It had been a surprise to realize that this was solely reserved for whenever he was fighting. So Prowess could help outside of battle but some of the benefits simply ceased to exist whenever he left a fight. He would have to remember that unless he wanted to find himself in very awkward situations. 

 An officer had actually complimented his reflexes as the training session continued. That was perhaps the only advantage he held over the rest of the recruits and it was enough to put him ahead. He was weaker than some, slower even since there were a few young lads a head or so shorter than him. 

 But he could dodge blows better than even some of the Sellswords, or so the officer had claimed. Gideon could tell part of those nice words came from pure spite directed at the Sellswords. That did not include him strangely enough. He did not really have anything on his person that identified him as a sellsword so the man probably hadn't known he was one himself. 

 As the training neared its end, Gideon felt deeply grateful for his greater endurance. This was just basic training, nothing all that fancy and yet he just knew, the Gideon from a year before this would have been breathing heavily an hour ago at least. 

 When the commanding officers ended the training and allowed the recruits to finally breathe. This had been brutal for most of them but they still seemed driven. How nice. Gideon held just a sliver of jealousy for that determination. When he had similarly found himself in difficult times, he had not proven himself that strong of character. But Essos was Essos, and he was different now. 

 After the training session had finished, he saw Beryn approaching. But his eyes were on something different. 

[ The Champion has participated in his first military training! ]

[ Achievement Reward: +1 Prowess ]

 A smile tugged at his lips before he froze. 

[ The Champion has reached a threshold in Prowess! ]

The Champion's body will shift accordingly. 

 ….What?

 That was his first time reading about 'thresholds', and he still hadn't unlocked Queries so he probably would not get an explanation. The strangest part was that his body did not seem to 'shift' in any kind of way. All that really struck him was a sudden feeling. 

 He felt…emboldened.

 " Well, well, you seem ready to skewer some fucking rebels, eh?" Beryn exclaimed as soon as he reached him. 

 "...Guess so. I, uh…I think I need to lay down for a bit." Gideon answered weakly. Something was definitely strange with him. 

 " Not so fast, Giddy. I heard that all the commanders are gathering in the keep to plan out the army's next move. Apparently, there's another damn army marching from Harrenhal. Some scouts confirmed what we reported during the night and then another group spotted the approaching army. It's got the nobles sweating, I tell ya that. The cunts meant to attack from both sides." Beryn swore and spat on the fresh grass. 

 " Giddy, seriously?" Gideon raised his eyebrows and fixed the man with a nonplussed look. 

 " Your name sounds far too serious. You shall be Gideon when you become a man. I reckon that should be in a day or two at most now, perhaps even less." Beryn joked. Before he could say more, a Knight stepped before them. 

 " You are the two who arrived yesterday and reported the rebel army, yes?" He asked. They nodded but shared a look of confusion. 

 " Your commanders have sent to fetch you. You are to recount every detail you can remember about the army. Follow me." He turned in one swift motion and stormed away. He sounded quite pissed off for some reason. 

 " Huh….I sure hope it does not start raining during the battle. It's fucking tragic how messy it gets when the water pours on the battlefield." Beryn commented as he looked at the sky. In the time since they had woken up, it had started to get considerably greyer. 

 They followed after the Knight, careful to remain close to him, and entered the castle soon after. The Knight greeted a few lords, none of whom either he or Beryn recognized, and then they finally stood before the door to the keep's hall. The two guards on either side of the doors slightly bowed before the knight and then opened them. 

 Only now did it hit Gideon. He was about to meet the Loyalist lords and Lord Edmure Tully. He still reeked of sweat and felt all woozy from that 'Threshold' thing. 

 In a second, a good portion of the lords within the hall glanced at them. Most of them seemed taken aback, probably due to his appearance. They did seem more intrigued than disgusted, however. He could freely admit that calmed him down a bit. 

 The lords quickly returned to their heated conversations whilst they approached with measured steps. 

 " So you have found our unlikely scouts. Thank you, Ser Morray." A rotund lord greeted them. 

 " Lord Smallwood." The Knight replied shortly. He bowed slightly, perhaps even less than was expected of him, and then quickly left them. 

 ' Ah, so this would be the reason he was angry. Does he just dislike the lord or did he get angry over being sent to fetch some random sellswords?' Gideon wondered. 

 " Lord Smallwood, it is a pleasure to meet you. We…ah, we have been told we were called to provide information." Beryn said, clearly as stressed as Gideon was. From what he knew of the man, it was most likely because he heavily disliked interacting with Lords. 

 Lord Smallwood was a tall and somewhat fat man. He had a thin beard and short brown hair. He looked quite unremarkable for a lord. But then again not every lord had the Kingslayer's looks. 

 " Correct," The man drawled. " Come, the war council awaits the details you are to provide before a course of action can be decided." 

 Lord Smallwood ushered them towards a long table surrounded by a majority of the lords, as well as the two Boar Commanders. The clearly extenuated man who sat to their left matched what Gideon had heard of Edmure Tully. He certainly had the correct auburn hair and a clean red beard. 

 " My lord, the sellsword recruits who sighted the rebel army." Lord Smallwood drawled again, bowing deeply before the man who could only be Edmure Tully. The fat lord received a slight nod as Beryn and Gideon bowed before the assembly of lords. 

 " Our scouts have confirmed the position of the encampment you described, but they were not able to get close enough for fear of being detected. We would not want the rebels to understand that we are aware of their plan. What more can you tell us, have you seen the banners of the camp?" Lord Tully spoke to them. 

 Gideon's first impression was…not all that great. The words sounded rehearsed, like he had been pondering over what he would say whilst Ser Morray was sent to fetch them. A lord usually spoke with more ease than that. This was probably because of the shoes he was trying to fit in. Hoster Tully could not easily be replaced, and Edmure Tully showed, with the bags under his eyes, how greatly the war had been affecting him. 

 To his left, a grey-haired lord clad in scale armour smiled softly. It was almost imperceivable but it had happened right as Gideon noticed the man. He quickly returned to his deep scowl, however. 

 " A-ah yes, so…It was quite dark out there, my lord, but I think I saw the banner of one House Vance. Uh, the one with the two towers, my lord." Beryn answered. 

 At this point, it had become a habit for him to talk for the both of them. Gideon was thankful for it. Though in a way it felt a bit scummy to let the man speak. Gideon could only be more experienced with speaking with lords, given the years he had spent with Aster Tyrell. All the same, he still left Beryn get all the attention drawn to him. 

 Best not to draw eyes on the pale freak with pink eyes. Although that was sadly already the case. One particular Lord, a young man with raven black hair and blue eyes was staring at him with great interest. 

 " The House Vance of Atranta? The two Houses Vance have been part of the same army since the battle near the Ruby Ford, my lord." One lord spoke as he rubbed his thick beard. 

 " That could be a good opportunity to deal the Houses Vance a definite blow. If we could capture Lord Carl Vance…" The lord beside Lord Tully spoke. 

 " It is as you say, uncle…." Lord Tully observed the lords before him as he pondered over something. " What else can you recall?" He spoke to Beryn, decidedly ignoring Gideon altogether. However, it appeared that the man's uncle, Lord Brynden Tully, if Gideon recalled correctly, did catch the young sellswords exchanging looks with a Lord sitting at the right end of the table. The very same young lord who would not stop staring at Gideon. 

 " Well….I think I may have seen the banners of House Mooton and House Bigglestone. Can't say for sure I'm afraid." Beryn answered. 

 Lord Brynden Tully smiled rather viciously at that. One of those Houses rang a bell in his mind. 

 ' Mooton?'

 Now that he heard the name…that reminded him of something. He used to live on the lands of a House Mooton. 

 He remembered only a select few memories from his early childhood but….was he actually a Riverlander?

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A.N: Hey y'all, I would really appreciate comments or reviews as they allow me to see where the fic stands at any given point and if it is going in the right direction. It's also an incentive for me as a writer. 

So don't hesitate to share your opinion or ask any questions you may have.