LoR - GCVII - Lenfald - Ein kleiner Nacht-Verrat

This is my first entry to GCVIII at Lands of Roawia . Be sure to check out! And join Lenfald ;) !

You can see Gurmand's previous stories here and here .

This MOC name is base on Mozart's Eine kleine Nachtmusik.

As always, full story bellow. Hope you guys enjoy :)

 

The tent’s flaps flickered when Maros came in. Inside the tent, curved over a camp table covered with Garheim maps, Gurmand discussed with Lord Jerriston. Looking closely at the maps was young Scipius.

‘Brother!’exclaimed Scipius when saw Maros.

‘Scipius! How are you?’ Maros hugged his brother and then turned to the two other men.

‘You must be Lord Jerriston and Sir Oaken’ he bowed ‘My father speaks of you with great respect’

‘My daughter has no illness towards you, and I so do not’ said Lord Jerriston.

‘It’s my pleasure to meet you sir. But please call me Sir Gurmand only’

After the greetings, they moved on to the maps over the table. The first map was a detailed work, depicting southern Garheim and its border with Lenfald.

‘We shall find no opposition until reaching the border’ said Lord Jerriston, pointing on the map. ‘It’s possible we even meet other lords on their way to defend the Northern lands’

They moved to the second map. This one showed both Odsberg and Hrad Vodopády. It was a quality map, but not as good as the first one. Odsberg was located in a vast steppe on a large valley.

‘The Queen’s men can come from any direction if they want to take Odsberg’ said Maros ‘They will find no natural obstacle’

‘If they did it they would be easily crushed by our cavalary’ argued Lord Jerriston ‘They will stay at Hrad Vodopády and defend it’

‘And we must not forget they have at least three Garhim lords trapped in their dugeons, including Lord Harsen himself, and at half a dozen scattered over other traitour’s castles’ said Gurmand.

‘Invading Hrad Vodopády will be a challenging task’ said Jerriston stretching the third map. This one was a very old exemplar, with almost none details remaining of the few it once had. But one thing was clear: The only way to the castle was through a narrow route on the mountains. ‘We can’t charge our cavalry through there. A handful archers would be capable of murdering all my best knights before we reached halt the way’

‘We must not forget the hostages’ added Gurmand ‘Once they find out about our army they will ransom with them for sure’

‘There’s no way to get them off’ Maros looked deeply concentrated ‘Unfortunately I have no Areani at my disposal, and I doubt even them could climb those rocks. Not with three Lords with them, at least’

‘Why don’t we ambush them?’ the question came from the young Scipius who had been silent to the moment ‘There’s a wood close by. Gurmand and I could lead our men to it...

‘No.’ Maros voice was severe ‘You’re a just boy, and you shall not fight’

‘But I want to!’ Scipius argued ‘I must become a good leader...’

‘I said no! I’m your older brother, and you shall respect my whises’

‘Maros’ It was Gurmand’s voice ‘I’m sorry to say, but this is a choice for the boy only to take’

‘Don’t defy me, Lenfel!’ Maro’s tone was getting angrier and angrier ‘I’m the older brother! Scipius must respect me!’

‘Maros’ said Lord Jerriston ‘Let’s calm down, we are all allies here. We both want only what is best...’

‘You will not have my brother killed, perfidious Lenfels! He is blood of my blood! Flesh of my flesh! He is...’

‘He is the rightful future Lord of Burgdebosen. You would better remind your position, Sir Maros’ Exclaimed Gurmand, emphasizing the word “sir”.

Maros face was red as a tomato. He seemed about to have a violent physical reaction, but he held it and walked away from the tent without t a word.

 

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Almost a month had passed since the argument, but the relation between Gurmand and Maros had not yet gotten better. They avoided each other, and their troops did the same. Gurmand’s men marched on the vanguard, acting as scouts for the main army, while Maros troops occupied the rear and his cavalry the flanks.

They were not far from Odsberg when a group of Queen’s man was spotted not far ahead of them.

‘Your orders, Sir?’ asked the scout, not sure if he should address Gurmand or Scipius.

‘Go to Lord Jerriston and warn him about this soldier’ said Gurmand, and then turned to Scipius ‘Your orders my Lord?’

‘If we capture them, we might be able to gather some information’

‘Smart thinking, my Lord. I think a dozen men will do the work’

They group was reunited and started marching to the Queen’s men. They were running very fast, as a antelope flees from a lion. Gurmand’s men were on a ground elevation, so they managed to approach unnoticed. And then Gurmand saw the reason why the Dragon troops were running: Behind them, half a dozen well armed Garhim horseman rode throw the freezing steppe, and soon they would reach the Queen’s men.

When Gurmand’s man reached the Dargon soldiers, they were close to a freezing lake, and the Garhim horseman had already started to work. The Queen’s men were mostly disarmed and down on the ground. The moment Gurmand approached, a tall man with a strangely horned hat and heavy armour asked:

‘Who comes there? Are you friends or enemy of the Northern people?’

‘We are friends!’ Gurmand replied

‘Then we shall talk latter’ And the man rode his horse to take down another Queen’s man.

The Lenfel troops helped the Garheim, and in short time, the only enemy standing up was a man who clearly was the leader of the red armoured troops. He had dropped his sword when he saw his troops were being overwhelmed, but yet sparred.

The horned helm man got down his snow white horse and grabbed the captain by his collar, and without a work, thrown him in the freezing lake before them.

‘Please! I don’t know how to swim!’ the captain begged.

‘Ha! Don’t worry! There are plenty of fish on this lake that can teach you!’ saying this, the man turned to Gurmand ‘Who is this Lenfel I see before my eyes?

‘I’m Sir Gurmand of Oakenfort, and this young one here is Lord Scipius of Burgdebosen’ Gurmand replied and bowed along Scipius.

‘Ha! Hahah! I knew you would come! Praise the gods!’ He was almost dancing of joy when he saw the confusion on the Lenfels’ eyes ‘Oh, where are my manners?’ he bowed ‘I’m Lord-in-charge Krieg Harsen, and I’m deeply glad for you coming in my aid’

‘We must honour our agreements and help our friends’ said Scipius.

‘I like you young lad!’ But then Krieg looked to Gurmand’s troops ‘ I’m afraid a dozen men will not be of great help, unless they are Scout Snipers or Areani’ Every flare of hope vanished from his eyes when he stopped talking.

‘Don’t worry, Lord Krieg’ said Gurmand ‘There are three thousand armed men approaching Odsberg as we speak’

‘Ha! What are we waiting then? Let’s go! To Odsberg, men!’ And the flames on his eyes grew wider than ever.

 

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Lord Krieg opened a large map in front of them. It depicted the lands surrounding Hrad Vodopády and the castle itself, and its quality was incredibly better than the one of the map Lord Jerriston possessed.

‘As you can see,’ started Krieg ‘Hrad Vodopády is on the lowest plateau of the Valkyrie River’ He pointed to a long blue line coming from the mountains, which finished on the castle wall. ‘Unfortunately, the canal that leads the river to the castle is between the mountains, so it’s almost impossible to get our men through it’

As Gurmand, Maros and Lord Jerriston heard Krieg description, more they thought they would not manage to invade Ygor Griayhr fortress. The castle had two gates, eastern and the western, and was protected on the north and south by unclimbable rocky mountains.

‘The second plateau’ Krieg proceeded ‘Is where the Fool’s Lake is’ The plateau was just above Hrad Vodopády, and it would be an effective place to bombard it with trebuchets if they managed to reach it. ‘The Fool’s Lake is unsafe when the river starts unfreezing, but it must be crossable now’

‘The third plateau has nothing more than the Old Bridge. It’s impossible to move an army there’ The Old Bridge, so called because no men could remember its original name, stood over the Valkyrie, on a rocky path that would be difficult for two mounted to ride side by side.

They started to discuss how they would move. Reaching the second plateau with their army would reveal their presence to moron, who would crowd the mountains with Queen’s troops before they could say “Jarl”. Knocking on the castle’s front door was also impossible, for two dozen archers well hidden on the rocks would manage to kill almost a hundred cavalrymen before being taken down.

‘Aargh! We can’t take Vodopády down and Griayhr is too coward to face us in an open field!’ Krieg blurted ‘That Mandrake, clay-brained, treacherous and well-shaved moron! I wish I could sent Greyzag to burn his feet and pump the blood out of his veins!’

‘Wait!’ exclaimed Gurmand ‘Melville Greyzag? Is he still here?’

‘Aye, he seems to have grown used to our city. Why do you want to know?’

Gurmand mind was rushing. He had a plan.

 

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‘That will never work’ said Maros, after Gurmand explained his idea ‘This Griayhr must be a completely unbrained on for this to work’

‘Well, I doubt he actually have a brain’ said Krieg ‘I think it will work’

Lord Jerriston simply shook his head in approval.

‘Let’s get our armies ready!’ said Gurmand ‘Victory will be ours!’

And he prayed his plan would work.

 

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Later that night, the dungeons of Odsberg were silent. The captured Queen’s soldier woke up when a gloved hand shook him up and covered his mouth.

‘There’s a horse ready in the stables. Go to Lord Griayhr’ the cloaked figure face couldn’t be seen in the torch light ‘And take his message’ The soldiers listened carefully.

 

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The cold halls of Hrad Vodopády echoed on the guardsman voice:

‘Soldier Bran Vulsta, milord’

‘So, tell me, soldier Vulsta’ the voice was posh and delicate, a soft liquor to the ears. It would fit perfectly the most toady man in the King’s court, but it seemed odd, yet incredibly fine, on a Garhim fortress. ‘What is so important that my chamberlain had to wake me up this late in the night?’

‘Milord’ said Bran ‘A unit’d army of Garhim, Lenfel and Loressi is coming to attack ya sire’

‘What! How wasn’t I informed before?’

‘They captured ya scouts sire’

‘And you were the lucky one who escaped I suppose’ The Lord’s voice mixed sarcasm with a bit of “Why is your head still attached to your neck?” tone.

‘There’s a traitor with them, sire’

‘A traitor? Interesting, go on’ Now he was interested.

Bran told his Lord the plan he had heard from the cloacked man.

‘They intend to bombard us? From the second plateau?’ His laugh echoed through the cold mountains. ‘They will be crushed! I shall destroy them!’

‘My lord’ said the chamberlain ‘It could be a trap to distract your attention, or maybe even ambush you’

‘Milord’ said Bran ‘The traitor said he wish to meet ya. On the Old Bridge’

‘Ha!’ exclaimed the Lord ‘It’s impossible to ambush anyone at the Old Bridge. Chamberlain, get my army ready. I want them ready to ambush this rebel army as soon as their first man crosses the Fool’s Lake’

The chamberlain left the hall with a bow, and the Lord was left alone.

‘This will be...fun.’ And the Lord laughed through the night.

 

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Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the story! Even if it’s almost 2000 words :P

My vig is already built, just need to write the story and update it here. Until there, See you soon :)

Any critics or comments are welcome :)

Have a nice day!

 

 

Done