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[GiglameshDespair]

"Thank you, your majesty. It is important to look after your spiritual health as well as your physical."

[Ghazkull]

Suddenly the wine and water in various goblets began to vibrate...and ever stronger. And soon the vibration was joined by the tell-tale sound of soldiers marching in lockstep and drums, heralding the arrival of the Weylanders and the rest of the Elberethian Army.

In the Vanguard five Regiments of the infamous Weyland Raiders marched in a haphazard formation, singing a weylandish marching tune while somewhere in the back rows someone was playing backpipes and drums. At the head of the formation rode a man who had more the look of a an overweight tollkeeper than that of a leader of men, beside him sat a woman in the uniform of a elberethian general. Well-groomed, with a brunette pony-tail and dark eyes she looked completely out of place next to the overweight weylander with a shock of blonde hair, unkempt greasy beard and sleepy eyes.

Meanwhile the Weylanders looked like somebody forgot to tell them that warfare had revolutionized, still bearing heavy shields, axes and their old nose-guard helmets. Behind them finally came the Elberethian Host. The Weylanders had promised and they delivered. Two Artillery Batteries, 5 Regiments of Pike, 4 Regiments of Militia, 5 Regiments of well-disciplined Line Infantry and finally 3 Regiments of various Elberethian Minor Nobility forming what was supposed to be Dragoons. With a lazy wave of his arm, the Jarl ordered his men to take parade formation, which they did in a very disciplined way, despite their rather uncouth and rough looks. Then he threw an amused look to the General as if inviting her to some kind of rival contest

[Ardas]

The woman rolled her eyes at his gesture and brushed aside a loose strand of hair from her face. She stuck fingers in her mouth and gave a long whistle, after which she gave a short cry.
The officers commanding Elbrethian troops quickly yelled their orders and troops formed next to Weylanders, brandishing their muskets and trying to look their best, after latest military fashion. The militias formed up in rows next ot line troops, and despite their lack o formal training they made it up with enthusiasm. 

She got off the horse without a second look at the man and took a short walk in front of the soldiers, before approaching the command tent. As the leaders left to see what happened, she eyed each of them carefully before setting her eyes on the Princess.

"Your Highness, General Flavia Terryn, at your service", she said with a clear, loud voice. Despite her clearly feminine appearance, accentuated by the form-fitting uniform and high boots, she seemed to hold enough attention with her eyes and clear voice. "Your army has arrived, together with Weyland's support."

[Ghazkull]

With a cumbersome grunt the Jarl dismounted, threw his helmet to one of the men who somehow tried to still hold his shield and axe while catching the helmet in the process losing all three things, and trudged into the tent giving everyone a bored look (except for the Abbess were it lingered a bit longer as if he tried to decide whether she was the princess) which came to rest on the princess, considerably lightened up as if he had just found a tasty morself of food in his beard and grinned broadly.

Your Highness! Jarl Halfdan also called the Eel, direct descendant of Jarl Corv Manskinner...at your service my lady.

he made as if to bow which looked rather ridiculous but gave up after noticing that his circumspect body wouldn't permit that. He then resigned himself to a respectful nod.

[Iituem]

Erika saluted the pair of them in turn.  "Your Grace.  General.  Elbreth offers her thanks for the generous support of the Jarls - and will make that thanks concrete soon enough.  My advisors."  Erika gestured to the five others in the tent and introduced each of them in turn. "The current design, pending certain reports, is a co-ordinated series of strikes through Northern Elbreth to prevent the juncture of our enemy's forces, while making our way south to reclaim Sheepstead.  Now, as I don't have either of your esteemed backgrounds, I give you permission to call me a fool and dispute this strategy for the duration of this meeting, and if I judge your propositions superior, we may adapt accordingly.  Otherwise, we shall plan to leave as soon as possible."

[Ardas]

"Do forgive our abrupt arrival, your highness," Flavia began, " but in my humble opinion, there is only one strategy I dare suggest - grab the bastards by the throat and hit them in the vitals. The sooner we march, the less time they will have to react, and this should be enough to sweep them out of the country."

"Soldiers are ready and people have been been waiting a long time for this. There is no way we can afford to lose their support while they're still hot enough for the idea."

Flavia stood at ease and put one hand on her hip and the other on her sabre. "And I see that everyone is ready as well. Of course we can do something else, but if we wait, Preston will know of this gathering soon enough. What say you, Jarl?"

[micelus]

The Command Tent

Ambros hid a scowl as he saw the Jarl entered. Loud, unwashed and dirty barbarians from the Weyland hills. It irked Ambros to know that these creatures shared blood with the Korlanese; Korlan had been inhabited by Weylanders and even ruled by a Jarl until the Plagues killed most of them off. Refugees from a Udanese conquest had fled there and bred with the survivors resulting in the modern Korlanese. Still, they were allies to the Princess...Ambros would have to tolerate them. He'd have to post a few more guards for the sheep, just in case.

The Elberethian general on the other hand was much more to his liking. A woman of discipline, she led an army of the common and rarer bloods, both ready and willing to obey her command. It amused Ambros to think that he would've probably married a woman like her in Korlan. Of course, such politicking did not matter in the current circumstances.

He stayed silent as the Princesses' guests discussed their strategy. That said, he could not agree with Terryn's plan. Far too reckless.

With The Alchemist

With the meeting concluded, Ambros decided to attend to his duties. Scouts would need to gather intelligence; the hatcuri's portfolio. While a few earnest soldiers could probably do a good enough job describing the landscape, spies could obtain far more useful info. Troop counts, patrols, the loyalties of the people, what they wanted and yet even more. And so with that understanding, Ambros had walked to Ssyrith's tent.

"Hassir? Are you in there? I need to talk about the Woolcleanser* potions for the troops." Ambros had distributed a set of codewords amongst the advisors earlier, in case they needed to communicate publicly where enemy infiltrators were a possibility.

*Woolcleanser= spies

[Digital Hellhound]

Shortly before the Weylander arrival

It seemed, to Anate Norn, that many paths lay open them today. Would history remember this as the beginning of a liberation? Or another failed revolt? And what would they say the people had been fighting for - their freedom and rights, or for simply changing one tyrant into another?

He doubted the latter. He had known from the moment he'd seen the Princess that here was someone greater than any petty would-be oppressor. She moved with grace and nobility like any queen from the tales of old, spoke with conviction that shaped dreams into reality. He had begun to wonder if there was indeed some divine spark or right in her blood, as the Abbess claimed - certainly she seemed to be of higher stock than the rest of them. The great philosophers had spoken of a 'Citizen-King', one raised above others to represent all the people and to make sure everyone's voices were heard, to avoid a tyranny of just one class. Anate hadn't put much faith in the idea before, but looking at the Princess, it seemed there might be something to the idea.

Of some of the others, he had more doubts. Harroway was a good man, if too quick to turn to violence to his liking, and had the people's best interests in mind. The Hatcuri was a creature of legend, a strange, foreign soul that seemed to harbor the darkest of mysteries. The Abbess, judging by her words, was a reactionary, but seemed loyal to the cause, and the people would love her. Hoffenburg... Anate knew little about the man, but the more he heard, the less he liked him. The noble seemed just like the kind of counter-revolutionary oppressor who sought nothing but to see the people put back into their chains.

He shook his head a little, turning to the Princess and bowing. 'Princess, the Weylanders are thuggish brutes. I would not wish to see us allied with them, but I understand if we have no choice. In return for their support, they want the freedom to loot, burn and rape their way in Suul for an entire month, until that entire city is ash, the freedom to plunder across Prestonian lands and to drag back in chains all prisoners taken. My Qu- Princess, the common people of these lands are innocents - or at least, their greatest crime has been to obey the tyrants raised over them without question, but that is a matter of ignorance and misplaced tradition. If there is any other path we may take, then by all that is good and moral, let us take it.'

He inclined his head at Harroway and the others. 'I would gladly tell you what the people need, but it is not simply a matter of grievances. The people ache for freedom, for freedom is the moral right of any living being. 'Man was born free, yet everywhere we find him bound as a slave', as the great Coumar said. This is a question of morality at heart, Princess. I do not know so much of faith,' he said, nodding to the Abbess, 'but it seems to me that we may be next born a prince or a pauper - what stronger argument is there for all men being the same? If one should oppress or harm another, would they not be harming themselves, in another life? I do not advocate a Republic, Princess - my presence here should tell you that - but autocracy is a wound in the soul of mankind we will be glad to leave in the past.'

Anate paused, hearing the approach of their armies. The time for debate and the foundation of a new state would come later, indeed - there was a war to be fought.

[Iituem]

Prior to the Jarl's arrival...

Erika smiled at Anate.  "Norn, I can see picking you to be my conscience was a good choice.  Our alliance with Weyland is a devil's deal, hold no illusions otherwise.  Yet without military aid we cannot topple Preston's hold over Elbreth, and their offer was the best of several terrible options.  More bad choices like these will arise, Norn, and I shall count upon you to have common sense when they come, and tell me if I am being a tyrant rather than a ruler.  For now, we must take this poor option, and seek to redress the injuries after this day is won.  Many innocents will suffer, and the Cycle will take its punishment upon me for that, but our people must be freed."


After the arrival...

"There is sense to this plan, but we have time enough to deal with minor matters before we march.  A day, at most.  Have the men breakfast and tend to their equipment for now, we will make to leave after noon.  Hoffenburg, Hassir, get me scout and spy reports.  We need to know where is safe to travel.  Harroway, work with the General and give me the three best routes we can take to Sheepstead, prioritising speed and ability to damage enemy assets.  If there are options for smaller forces to detach and delay the enemy or seize strategic positions, mention them.  Norn, Abbess, speak to the faithful and the dispossed.  Abbess, tell the people that the time of reckoning has come, and we will reclaim our destiny as free men.  Norn, start spreading rumours that we plan a direct attack on Preston.  I consider myself an honourable woman, but our enemies are not.  Let their spies take false messages back to their masters.

"Once we have this done, we will march."

[Deny]

Ssyrith didn't like where this was going, these new humans lacked any patience, and these reinforcements had given them a vastly inflated view on their own military capacities it would seem. And that Weylander, he looked like he was more in place at a festival than leading soldiers, these where the famed warriors these humans where putting their faith in? Nevertheless, orders where orders, and it wouldn't do to question them. Ssyrith bowed his head again to the princess, "At once, your majesty." And with that he turned tail and exited the tent.

After making his way down the camp for a bit, Ssyrith's agitation became much clearer, his tail lashing about, claws scraping together and eyes darting all around. The camp goers gave him a wide berth for the most part, none of them wanted to be near the angry Lizard after all. It took a while but eventually he made it back to his tent, an unremarkable one to say the least, slightly larger than average, stationed a fair distance away from the command tent, that thing just screamed target, and his new role as spymaster gave him even more reasons/excuses to make his tent seem just like any other in this camp, completely unassuming with no-one suspecting anything unusual to be going on inside. Of course, being the tent into which only Hatcuri in the camp entered somewhat ruined that effect, but Ssyrith tried to ignore that fact.

Storming into the tent Ssyrith took a moment to glance wistfully at the small set of vials and ingredients stuffed away in the corner, but a tent in the middle of a camp was not the place for experiments, which had an annoying tendency to set things on fire. Aside from that small chemical kit, the tent also contained a small bed to the right, a small shelf at the foot of the bed and chests strewn about the room, with a small desk sitting in the middle of the tent and a stool behind it, with paperwork strewn across the desk. Ssyrith supposed if there was one thing to be gained from their new plan of action its that he wouldn't be forced to endure these cramped conditions for much longer. Ssyrith scanned the paperwork across his desk quickly, both checking for any new information and making sure everything was where he left it, his tent was far from unguarded, he had hidden eyes always watching but he preferred to make sure of these things himself.

After making sure everything was in order, Ssyrith gathered up the paperwork across his desk and quickly stuffed in the chest nearest the entrance, before grabbing some new papers and pens and sitting down at the desk. A sigh escaped his lips as he started filing out the new orders for his agents, one of them would come around to collect and distribute them soon enough, randomly chosen of course, and then another would come by to take the same orders and send them out again, it meant more paperwork for Ssyrith but it helped to make sure no-one tampered with his orders. So focused on this was Ssyrith that he didn't hear the heavy steps of someone approaching his tent until they spoke to him directly, causing him to jump slightly and glare at the intruder, a glare which relented only slightly once he recognized who it was.

"Would you stop with those ridiculous code words when inside my tent? If any spies where listening in at present I doubt a few exchanged words would fool them. Now what exactly would you like to know, and make it quick would you."

Start combing the ranks for enemy infiltrators as discreetly as possible, get a list of the names of every spy in the camp, focus efforts on the recent arrivals.
Send out more spies to try and glean more information on the enemy forces, the exact disposition of the enemy forces and the like

[GiglameshDespair]

"Of course, your majesty."

The Abbess did not necessarily like these new allies - many of them had impure souls, and they wished great evil. Still, perhaps this was an opportunity to save some souls...

She headed out the tent and to the small hillock around which her sisters trained. She stood on the hillock, and soon her loyal sisters turned to her. The Abbess spread her arms wide.
"Sister-Knights and Hospitallers. Loyal men and patriots of our nation! Listen well!

Our noble princess, blessed by the faith and the chosen of God, has decided now is the time! Prepare yourself for the march, and in two hours join me in prayer - we must beseech God to ensure the Cycles spins as it should, and the vileness and devilry of the enemy are not permitted to pervert the order of things.

Take heart, Sisters! Now we spread the Faith and follow the will of the Cycle!

Blessings upon us, and blessing upon our princess."
The Sisters repeated the chant.
Blessings upon us. Blessings upon our princess.
"Prepare to march!"

At that point, the Sergeant-Sisters took over the organisation of her 'regiment'. The Abbess stepped back down from the hillock, a pair of attendants joining her - both with armour gleaming and weapons slung over their shoulders. She retrieved her book of scripture. Now, what would be a good sermon? Saint Thia had some blistering lines on the nature of evil...

[micelus]

This hatcuri was far too snappish; no wonder he had left Hatcur.

"Surely not, but it would make their life slightly harder. But yes, business. there are two townships between us and Sheepstead; what do your sources say about their loyalty to Preston? Do you have any idea on current issues amongst the populace?"

If he got the answers he was hoping for, the army would not have to fire a single bullet at Sleepy Hollow. The Princesses' diplomats, the revolutionaries, could simply make a speech or two and bring the township to the monarch's side.

Send scouts to survey the defenses along the roads leading to Sheepstead. Also, have them locate suitable areas for camps and ambushes.

[Deny]

Ssyrith rolled his eyes at this before returning to his work. "Public opinion in specific towns hasn't been a priority so far, but if you want to know the general opinion in northern Elbreth? The people have no love for Preston, but they're too scared to do anything about it at the moment, they lack the means. But if you think you can resolve this peacefully you'd best think again, the only military personnel in Northern Elbreth for the Prestoners are companies of mercenaries, a large police force for hire if I'm not mistaken, even the governor is a mercenary. Which reminds me, if you would be so kind as to provide the strength* of our own forces man for man, then I might find a bit more faith in this plan we are putting our hopes in."

(*Stats)

[Iituem]

Erika slid him one of the papers, a list of current forces;

2 Reg. Artillery, 5 Reg. Pike, 5 Reg. Line Musket, 4 Militia, 3 Light Cav/Dragoons.  1 regiment Hospitaliers.

"Also, something to think on during the journey.  Harroway, Hassir and... possibly Norn.  If you find yourself with spare time, I understand you all may have experience with explosives.  There's a certainty we'll be fighting pitched battles, and if we're very lucky we might get to dictate the field.  I want you to work on ways to mine the approaches, bombs that we can trigger from afar, maybe with powder rope, maybe some alchemical means, maybe something that enemy troops might trigger.  If the enemy field cavalry, those bombs should hopefully neutralise their advantages."

[Digital Hellhound]

'We'll see what we can do. The people will flock to our banner, that much is certain,' Norn said. 'The mercenaries need supplies and services like any other army, and the people who serve them in those tasks are Elbrethians. I'd see if we could find willing spies among the servants - the washing women, the menders and farriers, the whores and the peddlers. The lowest of the low are always underestimated.'

With some hesitation, as if unfamiliar with the gesture, he gave a quick salute and withdrew.

He supposed public speeches would not be the best option, this time. The coat would have to be left behind. This was to be a dishonest bit of work - disheartening, but it did not harm the people, and would perhaps help root out spies and traitors. In a town of decent size, he would likely be able to find some true believers, perhaps even a local resistance. The Queen needed more men and women who knew what they were fighting for around her, soldiers with fire in their hearts, not just thugs driven by a promise of gold and plunder, or bickering nobility.

---

After everything is finished at the camp, leave for Sleepy Hollow/the nearest town with a garrison on our path. Head to the taverns, inns, whorehouses etc. and tell of the imminent righteous attack on Preston and the rightful Queen's army massing on the border, seen with my own eyes.

If I meet anyone with a seemingly genuine hatred of the occupation and revolutionary spirit, offer to take them with me back to the camp.