[h2][center][color=0072bc]WATFORD[/color][/center][/h2] Reidun awoke to Aksel’s foot nudging her. [color=gray] “We go.”[/color] He said and walked away towards the others. She had everything ready the night before and had been so excited that she had barely slept. She wanted to see more of this place and it’s gutless men she intended to put down. Grabbing her shield she stood and murmured to Conall. [color=f49ac2] “Conall, we go. You must rise now.”[/color] With that she followed Aksel. Aksel pulled a couple of men aside and sent them ahead to take out the guards at the guard tower on the way to the city. Reidun watched as those men ran off ahead. Isgred slept surprisingly well, after some dancing and drinking and flirting. [i]‘Alone, but at least well rested now,’[/i] she thought with a frown. The sun wasn’t up yet, but everyone in the outpost was already busy preparing for the raid. The fighters were sharpening their weapons, checking their shields, braiding their hair and beard. The archers were pulling their strings and making sure the fletching on their arrows is in a perfect condition. She passed amongst them towards the tent where healers gathered. Isgred herself didn’t have much to prepare, she just braided her hair so it doesn’t get in the way when leaning over someone, grabbed her staff, a small dagger and her own satchel of healing equipment and she was good to go. It was surprising how different people reacted to those few hours before a large battle. Some were like stone carved statues, not letting any emotions show, others were trying to mask their fears with hectic activity or choked laughter. Isgred was somewhere in between – she wasn’t worried, because as all vǫlur, she knew how and when she was going to die. And it wasn’t here and now. But she couldn’t help but to show excited smile, when the sun finally rose above the horizon and groups of men started to leave the outpost to fulfill tasks assigned to them. [color=0072bc]“Here we go,”[/color] she whispered with a grin, her hand clutching the staff. [hr] Cenwulf on the other hand felt like he didn’t sleep at all. When he finally dealt with all the problems of the encampment, the patrol schedule, some disciplinary punishments for men who disobeyed orders, and other funny things like that, it was over midnight. It was then when Osmund quietly sneaked into the tent, all covered in mud and dirt. With a tortured moan, Cenwulf opened his eyes. [color=f26522]“Did you find out anything useful?”[/color] [color=82ca9d]“Yes, sir, they seem to be planning to march in the morning. Probably directly on Watford. But there was a large celebration with lots of drinking, so they might sleep in a bit.”[/color] Cenwulf thought about it for a moment. It was possible, but unlikely. From his experience with these heathens, there were two things they were ready to do at any time – drinking and fighting. Better to be prepared. He was still unsure whether to draw his soldiers back into the city and defend it from the inside, or to meet the raiders in the open field before they even get close to Watford. He had some small cavalry unit, which would come useful fighting in the open field, but only when used in the right time and place. The Northmen didn’t use horses when fighting, but they weren’t stupid and knew how to defend against them. Going back into the city would mean a safer spot for his men, easier to defend, especially for the archers who could take advantage of the higher ground on the walls. But that would also mean leaving the rest of the area free for looting and pillaging, not even talking about the risk of Northmen just sitting around the city and waiting for it to starve out. And a city under siege, full of hungering people, that was not something Cenwulf was eager to experience. He decided to wait and see what the enemy comes up with. [color=f26522]“Wake me before dawn,”[/color] he told to Osmund. Now, being awoken before dawn, just as he wished, he would give anything to just go back to bed and sleep for a few more hours. Or days. But duty always calls. [hr] Harek sat at the edge of the camp and stared out into the woods in the direction of the village. He hadn’t bothered himself with learning any of the tactics that they were going to use today, his job was just going to be to follow orders and kill englishmen. That was all he was good at anyways. He was destined, or doomed, to spend his life fighting in these wretched isles. Grabbing his sword from where it lay next to him Harek stood up and stretched, reaching his arms as high as they would go. He slowly started to walk through the camp waking up any stragglers who had yet to rise. After he had checked the tents he went looking for something to eat. While most men couldn’t stomach a meal before a fight, Harek knew it would be no different getting stabbed hungry or full. Harek had found some men who had caught a few rabbits to eat that were willing to share with him. He had sailed with a couple of them before and they begin to tell stories. They spoke of past heroics and fallen comrades. They also comforted the more green members of the group, telling them that the weak English couldn’t even break Viking skin. Of course this wasn’t true, everyone knew that, but it stopped them from thinking of death. After a while of conversation and terse laughter Harek left to go prepare for battle. He began to walk to wear a stream was not too far away to bathe and relax before the battle. Before he lost himself. [@Wick] [@pandapolio]