Smoke rose from the several small campfires which huddled around tents scattered in the vicinity of Ves, rising into small pillars of dark cloud, before being blown away in the easterly wind. Soon, the plate-clad soldiers that sat around those small campfires and rested within those tents of green would march with the wind, beneath the banner of Dame Athri Onfroi, Rabbit of Darrowmere. It was early in the month when these quarrelsome troops had gathered on the road to Ves; a collection of levies from Darrowmere and the wider collection, seeking prowess over the Kaedrini forces.
From her position on the parapets of the fortress on the mild morning, a stern-faced, white-haired individual watched with icy eyes. Both gloved hands were clasped together behind the small of her back, resting upon her cloak of white & blue. The dark leather boots on her were placed shoulder’s width apart, while her front was emblazoned with an unbuttoned azure jacket, sporting a white shirt and black sash across her chest.
“Dame…?”
Athri turned to her left, gazing upon the Marshal Jolfrey Elessar who addressed her; dirty blond hair and a dirty line of stubble which lined his firm jaw. He looked leathery & battle-hardened.. His hands resting upon the hilts of a sword and dagger, sheathed upon his belt, casual and informal.
“Several expected knights of the realm have not arrived. What do you want to do?”
Athri turned her head back towards the sea of tents before her, removing her hands from behind her cloak and waving her hand towards the man, speaking in her brisk damerian accent.
“Proceed as planned, Marshal.”
With a bow of his head, the Marshal moved off to take to the field, down towards the men below. Soon enough, the several campfires that littered the landscape were now extinguished. The tents that once filled the landscape were steadily removed and their cargos placed into wagons. The soldiers that had rested the night prior and had their morning ration of bread, meat and watered-down wine, began to line up and their accompanying officers.
With a small deposit of supplies left behind them to maintain a fallback camp, they began their march.
Blood spilled out onto the cobblestone roads leading to Ves, the light of the sun had long since faded and given way to an overcast night, offering no moon nor stars in the sky. No artificial light shone down, until the footsteps of a certain Damerian force passed. Holding a torch light in one hand, Finan Hjalmar looked to Liliana Sol’vein, the latter looking at a mangled kaedrini body in abject disgust. Another Kaedrini dead, dead crows from the fauna of the land had their beaks prodding upon the body of the man, while cold blood dripped from the soaked tabard of the victim. This was one of several that laid dead after the skirmish was concluded…
On this day, Darrowmere came out victorious.
Credit to @Suicidium for writing this!