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Fall, 1343
The Freeland Brothers greatly reduced their attacks after Woden killed Colonel Cruz. Logan was not sure if the rebels were mourning their fallen leader, if infighting had broken out between different factions, or if Colonel Anderson was regrouping his forces or awaiting reinforcements. Whatever the reason however, the respite was welcome. The Stanton Militia buried their dead, tended the wounded, and continued building up the defenses.
A week later Sarangay got up early in the morning in her full battleworn armor and went up to the outer parapet. Despite the general lull, there had been skirmishes with her people scouting the areas around town, and she knew better than to think that the Freeland Brothers had given up on their efforts to take Stanton. As the sun slowly began to rise above the mountains, the minotaur leader stood quietly, observing the massive sprawling Freeland Brother encampments that had now sprung up on all sides of Stanton, completely surrounding the city.
“You’re here early.” Logan came up beside the Sarangay, also in armor and with awlpike in hand.
The bull-headed lady smiled. “Morning, Forester of Stanton. I could ask why you decided to keep me company.”
“I think it’s the same reason why you’re here. I am wondering what the rebels are planning now that they’re settling for a siege, and hope to see something that would be informative.”
The minotaur and human leader peered into the enemy encampments. Just barely able to see clearly, the camps were rudimentary open air colonies of tents, with only a loose palisade, kitchens and latrines that distinguished them as an organized settlement. Though it was clear that most of the rebels were still asleep, there were already people everywhere; guards, camp followers, blacksmiths, coopers, construction crews, cooks, water-bearers and even children, readying for the day. It was strangely peaceful, like the ending of a long carnival beyond the walls.
Logan was slightly surprised at the scene before him, rubbing his beard and frowning. “I thought Lewis was better at organizing his revolution than this. This seems crude.” He turned to Sarangay. “How many rebels do you estimate there are over there?”
“I counted more than two hundred tents. If there’s 20 people per tent, that’s 4000.”
Logan thought for a bit, then shook his head. “The Freeland Brothers aren’t organized like the Tassurian forces. Based on the Wire Camp, there’s probably 100 soldiers scattered nearby for every tent set up even assuming it’s as organized as Lewis had made his. We’re looking in the tens of thousands of opponents.”
The minotaur was silent for a while.
"That's a lot of people against us.” She finally said.
“It is.”
“Can we hold out against all of them?”
“We turned back Cruz's attack on Stanton easily enough; they’re mostly minimally trained peasants, using numbers and surprise for victory. Our position is strong- stronger than many fortified cities- and our militia is disciplined- mostly made up of veterans of the Great War and backed by mercenaries and supporters such as your people and Karlen’s. We have managed to build further abatis and moats and traps and clear the fields around town for further defense. While we lack more than a few pieces of artillery, the ones we have dominate the fields of attack and they have even less. I think we have a good chance of surviving their assaults.”
“And if they try to starve us out?”
“We’ve been preparing for that eventuality for a year. Stanton’s basements are filled with harvested foodstuffs, water collected from the rivers, cisterns, woodpiles, and hay bales. We could wait out the rebels for months, perhaps a year.”
The Forester of Stanton scratched his forehead. “At least, I hope so.”
Sarangay gave a grim smile. “It will be put to the test soon enough. ”
Logan and the minotaur suddenly noticed a crew of rebels wheeling something into the field. There were about a dozen rebels total, evenly divided in front and back of the rickety contraption made of wood.
The Forester squinted. “What are they-”
“Watch out!”
Sarangay abruptly pushed Logan to the ground as she dived, just as a giant boulder zipped past where they had been standing moments ago and slammed into the palisade behind them, caused the entire wall to shudder, cracking the heavy tree trunks that made up that barricade.
The minotaur was up in a flash, calling out to her people to ready themselves for battle.
Quickly recovering from his momentarily stunning, the Forester also flew down the parapet yelling at his mobile reserve to respond, just as another boulder soared overhead and additional siege engines began rolling up.
“Traction trebuchets! Mansker, with me-we sortie with Sarangay! Destroy those damn things immediately!”
The Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter
From
Chickenzaur!
The Freeland Brothers greatly reduced their attacks after Woden killed Colonel Cruz. Logan was not sure if the rebels were mourning their fallen leader, if infighting had broken out between different factions, or if Colonel Anderson was regrouping his forces or awaiting reinforcements. Whatever the reason however, the respite was welcome. The Stanton Militia buried their dead, tended the wounded, and continued building up the defenses.
A week later Sarangay got up early in the morning in her full battleworn armor and went up to the outer parapet. Despite the general lull, there had been skirmishes with her people scouting the areas around town, and she knew better than to think that the Freeland Brothers had given up on their efforts to take Stanton. As the sun slowly began to rise above the mountains, the minotaur leader stood quietly, observing the massive sprawling Freeland Brother encampments that had now sprung up on all sides of Stanton, completely surrounding the city.
“You’re here early.” Logan came up beside the Sarangay, also in armor and with awlpike in hand.
The bull-headed lady smiled. “Morning, Forester of Stanton. I could ask why you decided to keep me company.”
“I think it’s the same reason why you’re here. I am wondering what the rebels are planning now that they’re settling for a siege, and hope to see something that would be informative.”
The minotaur and human leader peered into the enemy encampments. Just barely able to see clearly, the camps were rudimentary open air colonies of tents, with only a loose palisade, kitchens and latrines that distinguished them as an organized settlement. Though it was clear that most of the rebels were still asleep, there were already people everywhere; guards, camp followers, blacksmiths, coopers, construction crews, cooks, water-bearers and even children, readying for the day. It was strangely peaceful, like the ending of a long carnival beyond the walls.
Logan was slightly surprised at the scene before him, rubbing his beard and frowning. “I thought Lewis was better at organizing his revolution than this. This seems crude.” He turned to Sarangay. “How many rebels do you estimate there are over there?”
“I counted more than two hundred tents. If there’s 20 people per tent, that’s 4000.”
Logan thought for a bit, then shook his head. “The Freeland Brothers aren’t organized like the Tassurian forces. Based on the Wire Camp, there’s probably 100 soldiers scattered nearby for every tent set up even assuming it’s as organized as Lewis had made his. We’re looking in the tens of thousands of opponents.”
The minotaur was silent for a while.
"That's a lot of people against us.” She finally said.
“It is.”
“Can we hold out against all of them?”
“We turned back Cruz's attack on Stanton easily enough; they’re mostly minimally trained peasants, using numbers and surprise for victory. Our position is strong- stronger than many fortified cities- and our militia is disciplined- mostly made up of veterans of the Great War and backed by mercenaries and supporters such as your people and Karlen’s. We have managed to build further abatis and moats and traps and clear the fields around town for further defense. While we lack more than a few pieces of artillery, the ones we have dominate the fields of attack and they have even less. I think we have a good chance of surviving their assaults.”
“And if they try to starve us out?”
“We’ve been preparing for that eventuality for a year. Stanton’s basements are filled with harvested foodstuffs, water collected from the rivers, cisterns, woodpiles, and hay bales. We could wait out the rebels for months, perhaps a year.”
The Forester of Stanton scratched his forehead. “At least, I hope so.”
Sarangay gave a grim smile. “It will be put to the test soon enough. ”
Logan and the minotaur suddenly noticed a crew of rebels wheeling something into the field. There were about a dozen rebels total, evenly divided in front and back of the rickety contraption made of wood.
The Forester squinted. “What are they-”
“Watch out!”
Sarangay abruptly pushed Logan to the ground as she dived, just as a giant boulder zipped past where they had been standing moments ago and slammed into the palisade behind them, caused the entire wall to shudder, cracking the heavy tree trunks that made up that barricade.
The minotaur was up in a flash, calling out to her people to ready themselves for battle.
Quickly recovering from his momentarily stunning, the Forester also flew down the parapet yelling at his mobile reserve to respond, just as another boulder soared overhead and additional siege engines began rolling up.
“Traction trebuchets! Mansker, with me-we sortie with Sarangay! Destroy those damn things immediately!”
The Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter
From
Chickenzaur!
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Fantasy
Species Minotaur
Size 1091 x 1280px
File Size 394.1 kB
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