[center][h1][color=fff200]Gastó Canalis[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr]
The Duke stood on top of the Dragonspine tower, observing the battlefield through his spyglasses. The enemy forces began marching towards their positions a few minutes ago, and he didn't want to miss a single detail about the adversaries. Light infantry supported by light cavalry on both sides, they would be easely crushed by the forces stationed against them. The only question was: how easely? He folded the spyglass into a tiny tube and put it away into a small leather puch on his side. From the same pouch the Duke pulled out a small crystal contraption wrapped in cloth by a small golden chain attached to the material. He removed the protective cloth, and held the mechanism in between himself and the sun. After a brief moment of nothing, a faint shadow of two numbers started to appear. Inside the glass the number 12 appeared, the later number slightly fainter than the other. Thought the sky was clear the sun can be a deceivig thing to trust in, so appropriate mechanisms helped to accurately measure time. Thanks to this "Vigilia Speculo" the Duke noted that it was just past noon, and then pocketed the contraption.

From behind him his main architect cleared his throat, obviously trying to garner attention. Canalis turned around towards the man, and looked at him questioningly. He expected the man several minutes ago, but looking at the state of the base camp he couldn't really blame the man. The Grand Architect by the name of Alen Genthi was a middle aged man with a small stature but big confidence. On his head, he wore a device that seemed to enlarge his eyes, but Canalis guessed that the man used it for the magnification of blueprints. 

[color=fff200]"Ah, greetings Alen. I trust you are ready with the report about the Pioneers."[/color] He was halfway between a good friend and a though boss, and he tried to put on a serious face despite his mood. Alen nod and cleared his throat before speaking up. [color=aba000]"The 300 Combat Pioneers are at your service sir. We have all made space for our tents at the very back of the camp, making sure that we had enough place to build a makeshift workshop and storage area for the less weather friendly materials. During your time at the tent, we unpacked most of the ballistas, but we'll need more time to finish assembling the mangonels."[/color] He stopped awkwardly, and seemingly tried to form the next sentence without success. Canalis spotted signs of guilt and anxiety on his face. [color=aba000]"Sir, I am afraid we are not operating at 100% effiency. Last night the men had a drink to mourn the luxurues of the barracks, and about two dozen of them have a serious hungover. We have another two dozen that aren't especially hungover, but I wouldn't let them anywhere near our ballistas for their own sake. We are reduced by roughly 50 men that I advise we pull out for today."[/color] He scratched his bald head, unsure what to say next.

[color=fff200]"Don't worry about it Alen, the rest of the men are plenty enough. I cannot blame the soldiers for getting drunk before a large battle like this and I would have done the same in their place. All men handle the chance of death differently, and it seems like our men like to get drunk. We can spare fifty men for today, but make sure they don't drink excessviely again while we are here in the Maw."[/color] The Grand Architect sighed in relief and his whole body pose shifted into a more comfortable one. [color=aba000]"I was hoping you would understand Duke. I have made sure that the rest of the men are assigned to our machines, but we still have 130 Pioneers who are only third wheels in combat. I was hoping that you'd have an assignement for them."[/color] 

Canalis scratched his chin before answering to Alen. [color=fff200]"As a matter of fact, I do. There are many things that need to be done here around the camp, but the most glaring issue here is the lack of defense. As we are not expecting a defeat today, I would like to prolong the chance of one, and have a hundred men work on stockades until sundown. Something with more dirt than wood in perfect, just make sure we leave a big enough entrance for the troops to get in. Make it around 2 meters tall wherever you can and dig a ditch in front of it that can break a horse's leg. Just make sure to leave an etrance big enough for an elephant to fit in. I can trust you to draft up a sturdy wooden gate we can easely defend, and perhaps leave behind as a blockade if we need to retreat."[/color] The Grand Architect followed every detail by writing them down on a small piece of tanned leather, and started to draft up plans for the gate as soon as the Duke finished his sentence. However he looked up at Canalis with confusion in his eyes. [color=aba000]"And what about the other 30 men?"[/color] 

The duke smiled and replied with a small grin on his face. [color=fff200]"Gather 30 of our strongest man, those that grew up as farmboys or miners. Make them useful during the day by sorting out the materials we brought for other siege equipment, but let them rest. I will need them during the night and I can't risk them being exhausted. I also want the 50 hungover Pioneers to rest and get ready for the night, because this is how they can redeem themselves for not knowing their limits. That is all."[/color] Alen nodded, and hastly left the top floor of the tower, climbing down the ladder like a furious lizard. The duke smirked at the speed of the old man, and the turned his attention towards the battlefield. He was lucky to stay back at camp during battles like these, but his expertise was better suited for these jobs. He waved for a the 10 Scaleguards that stood next to him on the top floor, and they readied their bows and loaded them with a large arrow. [color=fff200]"Fire well ahead of our lines, I don't want friendly casualties."[/color] Then the Duke gave the firing order, and 10 arrows quickly left the bows of the Scaleguards. They soar through the air, shrieking in an ungodly pitch that instilled fear in the simple minded. Their purpose was to warn the friendly forces of the enemy, and to try and scare the charging horses of the enemy. After all, the Saqquar never shied away from psychological warfare during their long and bloody history of bloodshed.