An uncharacteristically shrill gust of wind bellowed through the fields of Crostignon from the northeast, moving through the soldiery and giving everyones’ loose clothing a brief tussle and perhaps a light scare that their flanks had been attacked by some sort of wind attack. Characteristically, Anisette looked unwaveringly calm; her horse redistributed its weight with a few dull trotting noises and Anisette found herself breaking that calm visage, closing her eyes and bringing up a pair of gloved fingers to her temples, rubbing it in a circle while releasing a drawn sigh as her ears twitched. “[i]Cheh, can’t even bother coming herself… eh?[/i]” “[i]Didn’t even bother to send a messenger. That Countess is irresponsible...[/i]” “[i]She’s a Chiffon, the whole lot of ‘em are like that! Bunch’a lazy gits, do nothing but brownnosing to the royals to get their way.[/i]” “[i]The real question is… Who is going to lead her battalions?[/i]” “[i]Who knows… All the nutrients went to those breasts she flaunts around anyway! Surely we can get someone more effective in the meanwhile.[/i]” “[i]Shut up you gadabouts, go report to the Commander that the troops are completely ready to go.[/i]” There was an unmistakable sound of leather being squeezed together as Anisette gripped the reins of her mount tightly with her non-temple-rubbing hand. She took another breath and composed herself as one of the gossipers galloped over. A pleasant to look at noble, he wore what was obviously a practiced smile as he gave the knight-commander a salute. “[b]Knight-Commander, the troops are assembled and in formation and ready for your commands.[/b]” Unsurprisingly, there was no hint in his tone concerning the conversation he had been having with his fellow nobles just a moment before. “[b]Good,[/b]” was Anisette’s curt reply, before she looked past the noble and called out in a calm yell, her ears still twitching faintly, the man in question froze and held his breath as he realized that they may have been speaking too loud, “[b]Croline, Linzer, Chorley, Panzarotti![/b]” She then set her focus back on the Noble in front of her, the brown haired Princess’ tone took a turn for the stern side, and the other nobles then immediately realized that she had heard them from across the ranks of her guard unit, “[b]And also [i]you[/i], Pithivier. You lot forget that I had also been called the Watch Dog back in the Academy. See me after this battle, I have heard some interesting things that I would like to [i]personally discuss[/i] with you all.[/b]” That was it for now, the bunch was already scared by the proposition of the royal’s retribution; to raise more attention—or worse yet, start a fight with the nobles—would invite discord into the ranks and have an effect on the soldiers’ morale and consequently their combat effectiveness. “[b]See to it that the communication lines to every unit are solid, I will not have any part of the battlefield lose contact and solidarity because of a random erroneous message. And have the Lieutenants from Rolante govern their troops until the Countess arrives.[/b]” “[b]Y-yes, Knight-Commander Pasticiotto. Right away...[/b] Anisette took another breath and nodded to recompose herself. To her side, Kisielia smiled smugly at the nobles. She was sure that Mystere would show up eventually. That perfectionist wouldn’t allow herself to miss an important battle, nor would she let her beloved citizens be without their beloved leader. The knight-commander cracked a smile of her own. ♦♦♦ Grand Marshall Mandelkubb let the rugged features of his face dip into a frown as he continued to observe his enemy’s battle lines through a telescope. With a series of clicking noises, he collapsed the telescope and put it away in a saddle pouch, placing a large mushroom-like silver helmet over his head. He readjusted himself on the saddle of his steed, the heavy intersecting plates of his armor letting out the ever faint set of creaks where no amount of oil could prevent them, and turned to one of his captains. “[b]Change of strategy. Take the mounted knights to the flanks, present the enemy with the greatswords first, then the shorter sword units. We’ll overtake those pikes with the weight of numbers and have the horses sweep through them as they’re occupied. We have our Queen’s confidence, let’s not spoil it by letting a bunch of peasants with pointy sticks defeat us.[/b]” “[b]Sir, Yes Sir.[/b]” The Captain galloped off to relay the last minute changes to the battle strategy to the messenger corps, and the command was spread with haste. The ground softly rumbled as the soldiers of Vilante reorganized in a timely and efficient manner. In Franlanthe’s history, pike based armies were a rarity due to their unwieldy nature, and anti-cavalry tactics were enabled with short spears that doubled as throwing weapons and static spike traps. The only armies that used pikes were defensive in nature, and static at best. The heavily armored Grand Marshall knew better to charge cavalry—no matter how well armored—into a line of pikes, but he also knew that such weapons were weak on their flanks, even with proper support. He cracked a small smile behind the curved plates of his helmet. Though the initial surprise of seeing the sea of pikes was concerning, proper application of tactics could still overwhelm them. The veterans of Vilante couldn’t possibly lose this battle against a sitting duck of an army. ♦♦♦ Anisette would not allow for the atmosphere to become languid in the slightest, but, neither would she allow it to become much too tense. Morale was a precarious balancing act: too high or too low and the troops' capabilities would be diminished, just in the middle was nonoptimal as the battle would feel like a tedious chore. On both sides of the high and low spectrum were a "just desirable" level of morale—that is, just high enough and the troops would fight confidently and efficiently, or just low enough and the troops would fight down to tooth and nail to tear themselves out of the corner. In this case, Graelian found itself outnumbered, underfunded and with no shortage of relatively new recruits. A sort of directed desperation would serve best to get the troops out of this situation. After just a few more minutes, the battle was going to begin. The troops and the command element was at the right mindset. Kisielia and Anisette were as prepared as they could be and just had the whole of the battle to look forward to. Though the Princess was still not at her castle and Countess Mystere Chiffon’s messenger was nowhere to be found, it was with reasonable confidence that they would be making their appearances shortly. There was news and a rather obvious visual que that the Vilante forces were reorganizing themselves. The news spread quickly that their formations had completely changed from what was essentially a steamroller into something more like a human wave. Anisette did not look disappointed or worried over this in the slightest. In all things—that is, in war, love, business… everything—no strategy ever survived upon contact with the enemy. It seemed Vilante saw Graelian’s change in doctrine and adjusted accordingly as expected from an army of elites and well funded soldiers. This was Just As Planned. Everything was now in place. Anisette drew back on her horse, leaning backward as she inhaled deeply. Simultaneously, the whistle of fireworks being launched resounded in close proximity, followed by the snap, crackle, pop of the celebratory pyrotechnics reporting. The battle was now under way. With a slight motion, Anisette adjusted herself on her saddle to unsheathe a particularly ornamented sword. It was curved, with black metal for a blade and a golden acorn pommel, a basket hilt covered the front of her hand and a mushroom like protrusion made up the handguard. Jewels covered the length of the blade up to the center and gold leafing was all over it. It was a gaudy thing not meant for battle, but fit for a commander. A cavalry sword meant to direct like a composer would an orchestra. Anisette drew that sword and raised it forward. Kisielia gripped her lance with a wide grin and the guard unit trotted lightly in place on their horses. She let out that deep breath she had taken, “[B][i]TROOPS! TOOOO BATTLE![/i][/B]” Like an explosion, the fifteen-thousand strong army bellowed out a reply, starting from those near Anisette and her guard unit, to the entire breadth. [B][U]FOR GRAELIAN! FOR THE PRINCESS![/U][/B] There was to be no illusion that this going to be easy, nor were there any delusions to the Knight-Commander that Graelian was going to simply step all over Vilante. But… There was just that [i]feeling[/i]. Victory was in their grasp, it was already secured in a way, all they had to do was fight it out. ♦♦♦ Fireworks could be heard all around, signalling the beginning of the battle. “[b]FOOOOOOOOOOOO-WARD MAAAARCH![/b]” At the top of his lungs, the Grand Marshall of Vilante barked out the order and eighteen thousand footsoldiers along with two thousand mounted knights marched in unison, with even more soldiers held in reserve near the fortress in case the battle took that kind of direction. On both sides of the battlefield, shimmers of light could be seen reflecting off the many thousands of swords, spears and pikes. The ground positively trembled underfoot, and creatures all around fled or came to watch the commotion and the audience of both sides leaned forward in their seats in the anticipation. As the soldiers of Vilante were underway, the sound of hundreds of unseen battledrums could be heard. There was a momentary feeling of confusion at the sound as the troops marched, until the visible result of Graelian raising shields and lowering pikes could be seen. In a sense, there was a slight unnerving feeling that they were about to just charge into what now looked like a spiked wall. But, that was what training was for. When presented with a wall of pikes, one common strategy was to rain arrows and field artillery on them from afar. Vilante was not particularly known for archers, and surveying reports noted that Graelian seemed to have purpose built shields and helmets to reduce the effectiveness of arrows. Hence the call to put greatswords up front. Strategically, a long, large sword couldn’t cleave a pike in two, but it could be used to infiltrate the lines by sweeping the pikes to the sides. This was the logical conclusion that Vilante’s generals and the Grand Marshall had come to. With the ability to infiltrate the wall of pikes and get in close proximity to the soldiers, they negated the advantages that were held by a phalanx and brought about all of its weaknesses. All that would be left would be for the knights to sweep in through the barely protected sides and finish everyone off. Even if Graelian had more flexible sword and short spear units, there was little that could get in the way of heavily armored and powerful knights. This was also already disregarding the advantage lended to them by having powerful commanders. The soldiery of Vilante almost pitied Graelian. An untested leader, fresh recruits and fewer numbers… What was their princess thinking when she declared war? That Vilante would go easy on them? ♦♦♦ THUMP. THUMP. BA-DUMP The drums kept the soldiers moving in perfect unison, and even more importantly, the training and drilling they had received made as a machine of war. Graelian’s army braced itself against the oncoming tide. With the ground rumbling beneath their feet and sweat rolling down their cheeks, they braced themselves. In the face of the shimmering swords and armor, they only tightened their grip. Behind the pikemen were the Auxiliary units, there to provide support and plug holes in the lines. They also served crucial in the mental sense. Similar to the drums that moved them, the auxiliaries encouraged them; should the pikes fall, if they brought their share of enemies down with them, then they had done their job and the auxiliaries would be able to complete their job and wipe out the rest of the enemy. THUMP. THUMP. More pikes lowered, being brought to bear in a most threatening looking wall. “[b]HOLD STEADY! DO NOT EVEN [i]THINK[/i] OF MOVING UNTIL THE COMMAND IS GIVEN.[/b]” Again, the drums thumped to signal the hold steady command. The orders barked from behind them reinforced the drums and the soldiers gripped their pikes further, readjusted their weights so that they could lunge given the chance. “[B]LONGBOWS… NOTCH! ARROWS![/b]” [i]Da da da da da[/i] Smaller drums echoed and the longbow wielding archers gave their reply with the sound of many hundreds of arrows being notched, overshadowing the sound of even the incoming army’s footsteps as their march was turning into a jog, and then into a slow, conservative run. Many of the archers were from Rolante and other forest territories of Graelian, so Anisette had something else to thank Mystere for. “[b][i]DRAW![/i][/b]” [i]Da da-dunk![/i] The glistening swords reflected sunlight like a strobing light, the enemy would make contact with their lines in just over half a minute. That was enough time for eight volleys of arrows. “[b]LOOSE ARROWS![/b]” And then… The sky whistled with the sound of many, many pointy things flying very fast at the approaching army. Soldiers braced themselves for the impact of arrows and the feelings of pain that they’d bring, just thankful for the protective forces of Frala and the fact that no one was trying to actually kill anyone. With a slight [i]pop! pop! pop![/i] sound, several soldiers throughout the ranks of Vilante were transformed into their respective primitive states to be brought off the battlefield by medical staff. While some were undoubtedly brought down by the arrows, others were knocked off balance by the impacts and tripped, only to be trampled on by their allies and then knocked unconscious. Overall, arrows were never truly meant to win a battle, but they did their job of culling the crowd and throwing their morale for a loop while bolstering the morale of the firing army as they saw their enemies fall without them having to move a centimeter. At the beginning of the volleys, the enemy had been 128 meters away. Twenty seconds and eighty meters later, eight volleys of arrows had been loosed upon them and the longbowmen finally had to stop as the firing angle proved too low. Now… It was the turn of the pikes. Historically in Graelian, pike primary armies were well known for being a static, defensive piece to tie up the enemy for their comrades to come about and finish them off. To Anisette, this was a ludicrous waste. [i]Absolutely.[b] Ludicrous[/b][/i]. [b]BA-BA-BUM[/b] Sixteen more seconds, the drums took on a deep tone to prepare the Pikemen. Pre-emptively, there were a few flashes of and sounds of multiple pops as a few crest cannons were fired off into the rows of pikemen. Due to their relatively loose spacing up until that point, the casualties were as minimal as could be. “[b]CLOSE RANKS! BRACE PIKES! CROSSBOWS, GIVE ‘EM A BITE![/b]” With another beat of the drums, the multiple shields at the front of the pike lines lowered for a short second and crossbow bolts flew out at the incoming horses and soldiers, taking out several more and surprising others. Before a reaction could be made, the shields were raised again. “[b][i]AUXILLIARY SHORT SPEARS AND LONGSWORDS. WAIT IN RESERVE.[/i][/b]” was Anisette’s order, there was no accompanied drum beat, merely the shouts of the lieutenants, captains and generals that commanded the whole army. “[b][i]PIKES![u] THREE STEP CHARGE![/u][/i][/b]” The drums took on a [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e1eZO2UPs18]Different Sound[/url] and the pikemen let out a spirited, loud cry.. [b][i][url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTvLtJtDobk]UUUUUUU~! RAAAAAAA!!!!![/url][/i][/b] As soon as the drums began their song, each thump became a step, and every third was a thrust. The entire army moved as if one single creature, thrusting pikes like a meatgrinder. There was the clear sound of impact as the two forces collided, a sudden and massive jolt of force completely took the enemy by surprise and entire ranks of soldiers were instantly taken up, even the proud Knight riders were thrown into disarray by the sudden and harrowing attack, only able to swat away pikes and make short retreats to save themselves from the carnage. After all, a static line of pikes was completely ludicrous. From the sides, a few of the cavalry tried to flank around, only to be faced by the well drilled and paced soldiers raising their pikes and turning in their direction. But Vilante wouldn’t allow themselves to lose… Not this easily. Just over five minutes passed and the numbers had already been culled to be about even with Vilante still having the favor of numbers. After the pikes began to slow down, the Auxiliary units threw themselves into the fray, longbows were used to take shots at targets of opportunity, and a sort of violent game of tug-of-war began. As per Mystere’s own guidance, many of the auxiliary units quite literally charged through lines to slash things up, and as per the Vilante doctrines, pikes could still be swept to the sides for the occasional break-through. Meanwhile, commanders made their rounds to cull their enemy's numbers and help advance their armies, looking to gain points and searching for the enemy commanders. The battle was now underway in earnest. Stretching across several kilometers of Crostignon plains, the two armies locked themselves in a vicious tug-of-war that from high above looked similar to a pair of snakes embroiled in a fight to the death. With Vilante in red and dark grey versus the contrasting blue, white and gold of Graelian, the battle was easy to follow as the regular soldiers quarreled with each other, the lines moving back and forth as each army charged and fell back multiple times, with animal balls rolling and hopping their way out to either side so they could be picked up by the medical crews. Occasionally, there would be a flash of light as a beam or an explosion would be fired off from a leader, sometimes blocked by the heaviest armored knights and by other leaders, and sometimes wiping out entire units of soldiers. Here and there, the recording devices of the spectators would switch focus between the groups clashing and the commanders' personal battles... Vilante had a deficit of points now, but this was going to change.