บท 332: Plannin'
Nenya makes small talk with the trio within the main hall of the Longhouse, and as opposed to Galmar's earlier words, it doesn't take long for a plan to be decided. The planners all depart and Dengeir meets back up with the group and explains the basic plan that they'd come up with.
Until recently the Forsworn had kept their actions to village raids and or occasional merchant ambushes. But now they've started gathering their numbers, likely in preparation to attack the actual city.
Fortunately, bandits and crazy hag raven worshippers didn't have the best military structure, making them terribly slow when it comes to this sort of thing. This allowed Falkreath to learn of their plans, and start to prepare accordingly.
The Forsworn had allied with some cultist orcs down at Cracked Tusk Keep and were using it as a base of operations. The ruined fortress was directly West of Falkreath, and was close enough to threaten the city nearby just by its presence alone.
Falkreath's economy had essentially been put on hold. No lumbering could be undertaken, no hunting, no trading... Even adventurers were wary of the Hold, which, when considering how suicidal most of them were, really said something.
While the Fortress itself was ruined and dilapidated. Its walls would still prove to be an incredible obstacle to overcome. Indeed, unlike a regular castle, the walls were hard, yet brittle enough to collapse on any unlucky attackers.
Not to mention the various reinforcements the savages would have made in the meantime. Attacking into the Forsworn traps and defences would be arduous, costly, and overall, not worth the effort.
Despite all of this, offence was the only solution to this. Extermination of the Forsworn general Newmi, who'd been the head of the Forsworn operations in Falkreath Hold.
Unfortunately, Falkreath's lack of any siege weapons only raises the difficulty of an attack on Cracked Tusk Keep. Even with the Stormcloak's here to assist, breaching it in direct assault would be impossible with their current forces.
Megumin could have blown the place to pieces if given the choice, but Michael would not let that happen under any circumstances. They definitely didn't need the attention such firepower would garner.
Thus, the plan Dengeir, Galmar, and the others had come up with. They'd have archers equipped with vials filled with alchemical oils that would act as napalm when shot. They'd be used against the new wooden repairs of the fortress, and while the Forsworn dealt with that, a small elite force would sneak around the back and attack there.
The Forsworn would be forced to react to both attacks, Dengeir and Galmar were hoping that the group's lack of discipline and overall savage nature would leave holes that they could exploit.
There were problems with this plan of course. If Newmi was smarter than expected, then Falkreath's forces would be split, isolated, and easier to fend off. The Hag Ravens had to also be mentioned, the dark creatures had the potential to be stronger than most Mages. There was no telling how effective they'd be until the battle actually started.
Michael was sure things would go alright though. Even if shit hit the fan, Tiffania and Megumin had enough power to hold their own, and he could just assassinate the Forsworn general to end finish it anyway.
Once Dengeir was done explaining the plan, he goes off and changes into some ornate steel armour, a helmet hiding his bald head and making him far more intimidating than usual. "Well then, I don't suppose you three have got armour to wear? I know you use magic but, those robes look awfully thin." he remarks.
"Wait, are we going now?" Michael asks, surprised at the abruptness of it all.
He nods, "Aye, better do it now before their spies have a chance to warn them. And yes, they have many spies." he adds.
"Well, our robes are tough enough... I brought some armour with me as well." he says. The three of them were wearing their Ebonthread robes, he'd had some made for Megumin not long after she'd been summoned... She was very particular with the style of it however.
Even with how cold the weather in Skyrim was, she'd wanted her legs to be exposed. Something he and Eddith refused to allow. Still, she got some of her wishes, including the red accents and the peculiar witch's hat that looked remarkably similar to her original one.
Michael comes back after equipping his ebony scale mail over his robes, causing Dengeir to gape at him. "What? Is it not good enough?"
The man shakes his head, "Here I am, the Jarl of this Hold, in steel armour, while you're wearing stuff made of gods blood! Where'd you get the material for that!" he exclaims while pointing at the black armour.
Michael shrugs, "Got lucky? Anyway, don't we have a fortress to breach?"
Dengeir nods, "Right, let's get to it then." he says as he hefts a heavy steel warhammer.
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The troops are quickly mustered and led out of Falkreath towards the West where the enemy fortress lay. About a quarter of them were left behind to defend against a retaliatory counterattack, but no one thought such a thing would come to pass.
Michael glances over to Tiffania and Megumin who were walking beside him. The latter looked both excited and wary, probably because this was the first battlefield she'd be entering. He was pretty proud of how calm Tiffania looked though, she'd come a long way from the scared civilian that she once was.
"Alright, I hope I don't need to say this but I'll do it anyway. Megumin, no, fucking, explosions. Okay?" he emphasizes.
She nods, "Of course, what do you take me for? I'll stick only with the magic I've learned in this world!" she smugly retorts, as if she knew something he didn't.
...
"Tiff, keep her with you. She's your Familiar, so any trouble she causes will be your responsibility," he says semi-sarcastically.
The Half-Elf smiles, "We will be fine. Won't we?" she asks Megumin with an eye smile that promises many bad things.
Megumin shivers under it but forces herself to nod regardless, "Of course! I never go against my word! A Crimson Demon cannot lie!"
...
"Right..."
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