Chapter 23
April 19th, 1663.
Krysia was reading over reports by the various scouts and officers she had requested a regular stream of information from.
It seemed that the Imperials were content to allow Holenstadt to be for the moment, minus the constant skirmishing. They weren’t massing troops, only strengthening garrisons, at least so far as her scouts to tell.
For the most part, she was very pleased with this. It meant that she could focus on internal affairs. She set down her report and grabbed another from a different pile, one concerning goings on in Holenstadt.
The report was about the Komorowski family’s whereabouts. They seemed to be holed up in their estate deep in the Dunkwald with a small army of mercenaries and Imperial soldiers who got stuck in Holenstadt
The entire family was there, meaning that if she could take it she would be rid of one of the biggest sources of headaches in the entire province. Even better, it meant she got to kill that smug prick Erwin.
He had staunchly opposed the Badeni family’s expansion and did everything he could to limit their growing power. While that was the best move for him, as the Badeni family did indeed end up heading the operations of the Holenstadt revolt, it still very much pissed off Krysia.
“Boy!”
Her young aid bowed his head.
“Ma’am?”
“Go inform commanders Kraskowic and Ersktotć that they are to move out towards the Komorowski estate a few hundred miles south of Holensburg. I will be leading this assault on their estate, and I want Erwin Komorowski taken alive.”
The boy nodded his head and quickly ran off. She smiled and picked up another report.
Some of the smaller nobles were getting a bit antsy about their positions and they were starting to squabble amongst each other. That was simply unacceptable, this was a time where they needed to be united under one cause. If they weren’t, then the Imperials would tear through them like a thrown rock through paper.
“Completely unacceptable. Do these fools even understand what’s at stake?”
She sighed and stood up, grabbing her coat as she left the room. She had business to attend to with these smaller noble families.
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Krysia stood at the head of a long wooden table made of beautiful pine from the Dunkwald. She was in a parade rest, something which she instinctively fell into whenever nothing was happening due to decades of soldiering.
In front of her was a group of twelve minor nobles. They all wore traditional Bszerci clothing, Delia of various colors and heraldry over beautifully crafted Źupan. Everyone present, with the exception of Krysia, was a man.
“It has come to my attention that there has been a small amount of…strife, amongst us Bszerci nobles.”
The minor nobles murmured amongst themselves.
“I am sure it goes without saying, but it seems I am surrounded by children so I will state it clearly: There will be no infighting under my watch.”
A nobleman spoke up, the representative of the Lodsey family.
“But ma’am, the Jekovic family have taken over one of my Vodka factories!”
She looked at the Jekovic representative with discerning eyes. He was a somewhat spindly thirty year old man. She could probably killed him with one hand behind her back.
“He thought he could take advantage of the chaos to take it!”
The Jekovic representative shook his head.
“This is nonsense. I purchased that property legally. It is not my fault the owner has more allegiance to money than to the nobility.”
Lodsey frowned.
“That factory is rightfully and legally ours. We were given a deed to it twenty years ago!”
Jekovic smiled.
“Who exactly gave you that deed? The Empire?”
The room erupted in murmurs and hushed conversations as the two nobles continued to argue. Krysia watched the scene with a look of profound disappointment on her face.
“...if you don’t give it back, maybe we will simply have to take it back!”
Jekovic smiled and leaned forward.
“I would like to see you tr-”
A shot echoed through the room, partially deafening many of the minor nobles present and splattering the wall behind Jekovic with brains and blood. Jekovic dropped to the floor, his legs and arms twitching and a low gurlging eminating from him. A few of the nobles screamed and shot up from their chars, while others just watched in silent horror. Krysia nodded and returned her pistol to its holster before addressing the entire room.
“If any of you jeopardize our mission by fighting fellow loyal Bszerci, you will meet the same fate. As well as your families. Is this clear?”
The nobles surrounding her all nodded after a second of hesitation.
“Good. Glad we have an understanding.”
She glared at the representative of the Lodsey family.
“Neither of your families will be getting that Vodka factory. It is being expropriated by the state.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it, opening his mouth then closing it and sitting silently.
“I suggest you all observe what is about to happen to the Komorowski family. It is what shall befall you should you betray the cause.”
She left her spot and headed for the door, stopping in the threshold and turning back to face the nobles.
“Think on what you have witnessed today. Any betrayal shall be answered with steel and shot. That can be avoided if you simply remain loyal. Now, I have more traitors to kill.”
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Krysia sat atop a horse, observing the troops marching in columns through the long, winding roads of the Dunkwald. Drummers tapped out their cadences, keeping their companies in step.
She was sending forty thousand Bszerci to destroy the Komorowski family once and for all. So long as they lived they would present a constant thorn in her side, as they had the resources to finance and arm pro-Imperial militants. And, aside from that, Krysia really wanted Erwin’s head on a pike. She had always hated him far more than she hated the other idiots which made up the Holenstadt nobility.
If memory served her right, their forest estate was fairly defendable. The terrain around it was very rough, massive dense formations of trees stretched on for miles around the extremely remote estate. Forming neat lines or columns would be nearly impossible until they entered the grounds themselves.
The estate was protected by a large iron fence surrounding the property. While it could be knocked down fairly easily with artillery, it would still get in the way and provide cover for their troops.
If her scouts were correct, their forces numbered fifteen thousand in total. Most of them were mercenaries, as they wore a variety of colors and uniforms, but there was a small chunk of soldiers from the Grand Imperial Army who got stuck in Holenstadt after the revolt. She almost felt bad for those who had no choice but to stay here. Almost.
“Maybe I should just siege it? There’s no way they have enough food for all of them.”
She shook her head solemnly.
“No, every second that cock-sucker is still drawing breath is a second that could be spent squeezing the life out of him!”
Her aid nodded next to her. He sat on his own horse, a smaller, less powerful one, but it was a horse nonetheless. It was just on the cusp of being an adult, much like the boy who served her.
“Yes ma’am. With you leading us, he will be strung up soon enough.”
Krysia smiled.
He’s such a good boy.
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Leibensburg, Leibenstadt.
The Baron was walking through the mansion of an affluent nobleman named Hans Drechler. He led a squad of thirty grenadiers through the hallways and rooms, looking all around for Hans and his family.
He passed by a terrified maid trembling on the ground before turning back around. She was an elf, most likely a slave. The Baron looked over her quickly, noticing something that he did not much appreciate: bruising on her arms and legs.
“Excuse me, ma’am, have you seen the master of this house around?”
The elf woman looked up and nodded her head slowly.
“Excellent, do you remember where?”
The elf nodded.
“O-o-oui, I last saw ‘im ‘eading towards the basement.”
“Excellent. Thank you for your assistance.”
The Baron made to leave before stopping in his tracks and turning around again.
“Oh, you’re free, by the way. I’m guessing by your accent that you were taken from your home on the elven continent?”
She stared at him blankly. The Baron addressed one of his men.
“Dietrich, bring her wherever the rest of the freed slaves are being held for the time being. Give her some extra food and water...”
He gestured to her buising.
"She deserves it for what she's been through."
He turned back to her and smiled.
“You now have the opportunity to go home! Congratulations!”
He left the shocked elf to be tended to by Dietrich and continued his search of the mansion, informing any elves he came across that they were being set free and returned home, or given enough resources to get back on their feet as free people.
His men entered a room and the Baron heard a very high pitched feminine scream. They came out with a young girl in an adorable pink and white frilly dress. She had long, curly hair, very much like a doll’s. The Baron assumed she couldn’t be older than six, and he assumed by the quality of her clothing that she was the daughter of the Drechler family. He knelt down to get on her level and smiled, putting on his kindest voice.
“Don't worry, kid, we’re not here to hurt you.”
The girl sniffled and looked him in the eyes, a terrified expression on her face.
“Where’s my daddy and mommy?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, sweetie. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe. Fritz!”
The girl began to struggle as Fritz lifted her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The Baron frowned.
“Fritz. Be gentle with the girl.”
The girl beat his back and screamed. Fritz spoke, a slightly panicked look on his face.
“But she’s freaking out, sir.”
“She’ll calm down if you don’t throw her over your shoulder like a sack of flour! Hold her properly dammit!”
He walked over and rustled her hair.
I miss when Wolfgang was this small.
“People don’t like being treated like a sack of flour. Don’t worry kid, you’re safe with us-The Bickenstadt Liberation Forces!”
Massive tears rolled down her cheek as Fritz took her away. She was no longer beating his back, thankfully, but she was still squirming in his grasp. The Baron shook his head as he heard her crying out for her parents.
“Let’s find them for her.”
His men vocalized their agreements and got moving towards the basement. The entire time the Baron was caterwauling about how irresponsible they were, leaving their child alone like that. He was aware that he did not do a great job in raising Wolfgang at that age, but he was a man who learned from his mistakes.
They began to descend down the stairs, listening to their footsteps echoing down the dark stone hall and the Baron’s complaints.
“...unbelievable, those savages have no idea how to raise a child! They need to be-”
Soon a horrible stench came over the men, one that was very familiar to them: The stench of death and decay. The Baron drew his saber and continued on, covering his nose with his off-hand.
The stairs went down farther than he had expected, and there was a slight curve to the path. At the end of the stairs was a small hallway, less than a few feet, leading to a wood door reinforced with iron, and it had a gap at the top filled with iron bars.
The Baron tried the door and found it was locked.
“To be expected. Stand back men.”
The grenadiers stepped back as the Baron’s eyes glowed a deep green. He took a step forward and thrust his fist forwards as he dropped down into a deep horse stance. A spike erupted from the floor and smashed through the door with ease, sending splinters scattering across the stone floor. He returned the spike to the ground and strode forwards.
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The Baron looked through the open doorway and found nothing, just a bunch of cells and a door on the other side of the room. A second later a gust of air greatly intensified the smell, causing a few of the men behind him to retch.
“Steel yourselves men. This might be grim.”
The Baron ran through, swiftly checking either side of the door in less than second. On either side were people with weapons raised. The Baron rolled forward and came up facing them with his saber held out in front. A second later a shot rang out and a bullet pinged off his cuirass. He barely even felt it, as he had recently invested in some experimental shock absorption magic.
The person who shot him was, to his surprise, an elf, looking terrified and holding a smoking musket. There were three others next to them, also holding guns aimed at the Baron, as well as four more elves with makeshift weapons. In addition to this, there was a single human on either side, wearing guard uniforms and wielding halberds.
The elves looked gaunt and sickly. Their hands shook as they trained muskets on the Baron. Another elf fired, missing him by a country mile. A second later the Baron’s grenadier’s rushed into the room.
“Capture them alive men!”
As soon as his soldiers began to rush into the room the elves dropped their muskets and raised their hands. One of the elves with a chair leg club rushed at a grenadier and found the butt of a gun slamming into their stomach, knocking the air out of their lungs and sending them reeling back onto the ground.
The guards both swung at the grenadiers, who easily parried the slashes and swiftly overwhelmed them, disarming and holding them on the ground. The remaining elves dropped their makeshift weapons and raised their hands. The Baron looked around the basement now that the danger was gone.
There were eight cells, each one big enough for a few people to be held at once. They were dark, as the torch’s light was not intense enough to illuminate the entire room. The Baron’s eyes glowed red and a flame erupted from his fingertip, illuminating the dank, dark cells.
The cell was filled with eight people, elves by the look of their pointy ears. They were all covered in dirt, grime, flies and fleas, wearing rags at best and nothing at worst. They were all skin and bones, and the ones still capable of movement could only slowly shield their eyes from the light with their arms.
The Baron gasped audibly.
“Oh my God...”
He checked the rest of the cells and found that, thankfully, they were mostly empty. A few of them even had human prisoners, who were visibly in much better shape.
“Look for the keys or break open the cells.”
He spared another glance at the malnourished and abused elves. Some of them had open sores visible on their faces.
“And someone go fetch Geidpfeld.”
The Baron walked over to the door at the end of the room and tested the handle, finding that it was, again, locked. This door was a simple wooden door, not even reinforced with iron or anything. The Baron took in a deep breath and kicked near the door handle, breaking the lock and swinging the door open in a single move.
A loud crack came from the room and another bullet pinged off his armor. The Baron rushed into the room and slammed into the man inside, ripping the pistol out of his hands and punching him down onto the ground.
"You really ought to be aiming for the head these days. Armor has come a long way since my boyhood."
Groaning in a heap on the ground was the man they were looking for: Hans Drechler. He was a twenty five year old nobleman, descendent of one of the founding families of Leibensburg. He was of medium height and build, clean shaven, and wearing a black three piece suit.
“Get up.”
The Baron kicked him in the ribs.
“Up.”
Hans coughed and tried to push himself up. The Baron kicked him in the ribs again, knocking him over.
“Nevermind-don’t bother getting up. Tell me, son, are the elves out there yours?”
The man looked up weakly, his eyes overflowing with fear and despair.
“Uh-uh, Baron, plea-”
The Baron kicked him in the face, causing him to scream at the top of his lungs.
“You know what? Don’t answer that.”
Hans tried to look up but the Baron kicked him in the ribs again. At this point, he had definitely shattered at least a few of them.
“Don’t look at me, slaver. Psychopath.”
He knelt down and grabbed Hans by the hair.
“Sadists don’t get to speak to me. I’d prefer to speak to a dog. At least a dog has moral worth.”
He turned his head to his men.
“What do you think we should do with him boys?”
A few of his grenadiers were hovering around the cell filled with elves, a blank expression on their faces. One of them spoke, unable to tear their eyes away from the dying elves rotting in front of them.
“Sir, I think he should be shot.”
Another spoke a second later.
“Maybe he should be hanged.”
The men all shared their thoughts on the horrific and brutal ways they wished to respond to this crime against sapiency. The Baron nodded.
“We will make a spectacle of it.”
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The Baron stood on a raised platform, flanked on either side by his grenadiers. Standing next to them were a few elves, tattered clothes flowing in the wind, exposing their hollow rib cages and skeleton-like physique.
At the center of the platform was Hans Drechler, hands tied behind his back and a terrified expression on his face, as well as two massive grenadiers on either side holding him still. In front of him was a massive crowd of people, the citizens of Leibensburg.
They were in the main square, the largest hub of activity in the city. People pushed and shoved to get a better view of what was going on, merchants sold food and other trinkets to whoever’s attention they could get, and young pickpockets plied their trade on the distracted crowd.
The Baron cleared his throat and began to shout.
“People of Leibensburg! Here before you is a man you may have heard of, Hans Drechler, the head of the Drechler family, one of the founding families of Leibensburg. By all accounts his rule has been…fine. Fine for some...”
He gestured to the starving elves.
“Horrifying for others! I am here today to expose to you what he has been doing to people, to thinkling beings, to the elves, to his slaves. The people deserve to know what the man who runs their city has been getting up to in his free time!”
He gestured at an elf and they began to walk over to him. The crowd gasped when they came fully into view, shocked at the horrific state of this elf. They were emaciated, covered in bruises and sores, and one of their ears was clipped to about half the length of the other.
“Even if you do not believe elves to be equal to you, which I argue is a ridiculous claim to make, nothing explains this behavior other than pure sadism! Is that the kind of man you want taking care of you and your families? Do you want to put your livelihoods in the hands of a man so wicked and unfeeling?”
People in the crowd shouted ‘no!’, while some others booed. Most stayed silent, unable or unwilling to make a sound. The vast majority of the crowd did genuienly believe that elves were lesser than them, however, they weren't hateful, they didn't want the elves to suffer. They just believed their role was to be subservient to humans.
“He has made it a habit of starving and torturing elves, for no other reason than because he could! Because it made him feel powerful! Well, let me tell you, such actions are indicative only of a sick and weak individual! I, for one, cannot allow such a man to run free.”
The crowd sounded mixed and uncomfortable, unsure of how exactly to respond.
“Because of these horrific actions, I will be dispensing justice! Justice for the people he harmed!”
The Baron made a show of drawing his pistol and pulling the hammer back. As the Baron spoke and aimed his weapon at Hans, the man began to panic and struggle against his captors.
“Hans Drechler, for your crimes, for your torture, starvation, and ownership of fellow sentient being, you are sentenced to death by firing squad.”
Hans’s screams were cut short by a musket ball punching through the back of his head, sending brains and blood splattering onto the platform and the stones below. He went limp immediately and was swiftly dropped by his guards, laying completely still in whatever pose his drop left him in. The Baron nodded and returned his pistol to his holster before stepping forward and speaking again.
“Anyone who commits crimes against sapiency such as him will meet the same fate! Or worse. I will create something new, a better world, a Godly world. I am bringing forth an enlightened age, one where men and women, human and elf, child and adult, will be able to lead free and dignified existences. And I will be starting with those most oppressed!”
He took a deep breath.
“I restate my purpose to you, the people of Leibensburg: I fight to end slavery, and to bring freedom and democracy to everyone in the Empire! I fight not for the freedom of the nobility and merchants to squeeze money out of the fine people of the Empire, but for your freedom, and the freedom of your children as well! I will make a better world for the next generation, and all I ask is that you cooperate with me! I do not ask for much, all you need do is continue your everyday lives, and live kindly and authentically, and treat your fellow sapient beings with the respect that all people deserve!”
The crowd seemed to be amenable to his rhetoric, or simply pleased that he isn’t actually asking them to do anything, and that he wasn't going to make their lives worse.
“I promise you that your material circumstances will not change, with the exception of those at the very lowest rung of society. They will be lifted up to be equal with all of you so that they, and you, will live free, dignified lives!”
The crowd cheered and he waited for them to die down before continuing. He drew his saber and pointed it towards Bergzitadelle Frederick, which was visible off in the distance, such was its massive scale.
“Now, I turn my attention south! Live your lives as best as you can, and be kind to one another! That is all I ask!”
The crowd tentatively cheered for him as he walked off the podium and mounted his horse.
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The Baron and Ludwin watched as a stream of massive beings flowed in the direction of their camp, giant red and gold standards held high in the air. Each standard had a massive golden animal head on them, usually a goat with twisting and pointed horns. They were the heraldry of Caprae Loco, differentiating the various different Legions from each other at a glance. The Baron whistled and spoke absentmindedly.
“Wow, that really is quite a sight.”
Ludwin nodded.
“Yes, they really are quite big. And there are a lot of them.”
They watched in silent awe as the massive caprine horde marched far faster than any man could. Soon, a pair of horsemen broke off from the front and rode over. One was a Brayherd wearing a helmet with a horizontal plume of red dyed horse hair, the other a human with black skin, dreadlocks, and a medium length beard.
The Brayherd put a fist over his heart and bowed his head slightly.
“Baronis de Bickenstadt, I presume? I am Consul Tiberius Craccus, and this is my aide, Daudi. We collectiwely are the general of the Caprae Loco Legions in Leibenstadt.”
The Baron returned the gesture.
“Yes, I am the Baron von Bickenstadt, simply referred to as Baron. This is my one and only lieutenant Ludwin Albrecht, I trust him with my life and I hope you will do the same.
Tiberius smiled his strange Brayherd smile.
“That remains to be seen, though I am optimistic. Now, let us go and discuss, I imagine there is a lot to do.”
The Baron nodded.
“Yes, follow us.”
They lead the pair to the stables, then to the war tent. As they walked over, the Baron remembered something.
“Excuse me, but, where is Gaius Bestia Caprae? He is an officer of mine, the Brayherd sent to coordinate with you?”
Tiberius laughed heartily.
“Ah, Gaius, wonderful man from excellent stock! He is busy at the moment, if you get my meaning.”
The Baron smiled.
“Well, good for him. I’ll still be needing a report from him.
Tiberius laughed and nodded.
“Of course, of course Amicus. He will give it to you when he is finished.”
He led them inside the tent and gestured to the table. After they all took their seats, the Baron began speaking.
“I hear that you had an engagement with the Grand Imperial Army on the way here, how did that go?”
Daudi spoke.
“We believe that our human auxiliaries are going to be useful only as fodder for the cannons. Our Brayherds, however, still prove themselves perfectly capable of winning against your Linear Warfare.”
Tiberius chuckled.
“Ita Vero, their lines were no match for our charging testudo. We broke straight through, scattered their men, then did as we Brayherds do best.”
Daudi continued after Tiberius was finished.
“As he said, the biggest problem we had was with their artillery. No amount of enchanted shields can block shots from a cannon, it simply cannot be done.”
The Baron nodded.
“Yes, God is on the side with the best artillery. It is what creates openings for your cavalry and infantry to exploit. It is an essential component for any modern army.”
Tiberius and Daudi nodded their heads.
“Daudi had brought up the idea to me of borrowing some cannons from the Waffenstadt forces, we hear they have a wealth of artillery.”
The Baron scratched the back of his head apologetically.
“Well, I’m not sure if we can offer any up for you specifically, siding with us does mean that you will attack supported by artillery, in the very least.”
Tiberius nodded.
“This is…acceptable. I wish to move on to something more important, namely, how we will be utilized in battle.”
“Of course. Did you have anything in particular in mind?”
Daudi nodded.
“Yes, we believe that our Brayherds would best be used anywhere that looks weakest. The strongest men go to the weakest link, and Brayherds are excellent at breaking weak links.”
The Baron bit his thumbnail as he thought.
“Well…that is fairly basic strategy. It is absolutely what we should do.”
The Baron stood up from the table and walked over to a chalkboard, something which he expropriated from the Drechler estate. He began to draw shapes and arrows, each one representing a unit of men.
“Our strategy is fairly simple: We use artillery to create gaps, we use cavalry to widen gaps, and the infantry flood in to break them fully and utterly. With how you Brayherds are said to fight, you could function as cavalry and infantry at once.”
He turned to make eye contact with Daudi, the man he figured was the more reliable of the two.
“Is this an accurate assessment?”
Daudi nodded.
“Yes it is. I have seen it with my own eyes. Brayherds sprinting in a testudo is a terrifying sight, a similar psychological effect to a cavalry charge. And about as effective as well.”
The Baron went back to drawing. He had sketched out some rough battle lines, as well as artillery emplacements. He drew a line from the cannons through a square of enemy infantry.
“I will draw it out just so you can get an better idea of the Imperial way of war. Step one. The cannons create a gap.”
He erased a portion of the square then drew an arrow from friendly cavalry to the gap.
“Step two. We flood the gap with cavalry to keep them from filling it in. Then…”
He drew arrows from friendly to enemy infantry.
“...Step three. The infantry moves in to mop them up. Now, with your help, we can combine steps two and three into one step.
He chuckled to himself.
"We can call it the Brayherd step.”
He drew a line from cannon through a square. Then he drew a larger square and drew an arrow to it.
“Cannon creates gap…”
He erased the square.
“And you Brayherds do what you do best.”
Tiberius nodded and smiled.
“I like this strategy.”
He stood from his chair excitedly before extending a hand to the Baron.
“We are going to do great things together, Baronis.”
The Baron grasped and shook it.
“Agreed. Your men and mine will create an unstoppable wave of disciplined warriors crashing through the enemy. The Imperials stand no chance.”
Tiberius tilted his head to the side.
“Are you not still Imperials?”
“Well, we are, but people know what we mean when we say Imperials. We mean the Imperial government, and the Reikspal line. We are the rebels, or Bickenstadters, Waffenstadters, and Leibenstadters now.”
Tiberius nodded.
“Good to know. Now, we have logistics to take care of. Who do we go to for that?”
The Baron came around the table and led him to the entrance of the tent.
“For that, you’re going to want Helmut. Come, follow me…”
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April 27th, 1663.
The leaders of The Coalition To Liberate Leibenstadt had assembled. Johan von Puckelsmark of the Waffenstadt forces, Baron von Bickenstadt and Ludwin Albrecht of the Bickenstadt forces, Tiberius Craccus and Daudi of the Brayherd forces, all stood together, shoulder to shoulder. The forces of Waffenstadt, Bickenstadt, and Caprae Loco were now one, united army. A coalition of liberators, even if the Brayherds didn't think of themselves that way.
They were looking over a large stretch of land, an area just on the edge of the plains and the mountains of Leibenstadt. There was a slight incline up towards the mountain, and there were boulders and large mounds everywhere, as well as knots of trees and other foliage.
The Baron turned his back to the field and himself towards his comrades.
“Gentlemen, this is the battlefield where we will officially begin the siege of Bergzitadelle Frederick. The Imperials will meet us here, trust me, and we will crush them. If we play our cards right, they will retreat all the way to the citadel itself before our momentum stops.”
Von Puckelsmark nodded.
“That sounds excellent to me.”
Tiberius did the same.
“Yes, this plan of your sounds solid to me. If the Imperials truly will meet us here, then, as my father would say, Carpe diem!”
The Baron laughed.
“Carpe diem, seize the day, a wonderful phrase. And seize we will! Our combined forces will be unstoppable! And once the Ottomans come, taking Frederick will be simply a matter of course.”
Everyone nodded. The Baron continued.
“Now, let us prepare ourselves. Tomorrow is a big day! You must be fresh and ready to fight with all your might!”