"They'll be coming down the road from the château first," Athers said, drawing a line on the map with his finger, "After that they'll likely split into two separate forces and try to enter from the north-east and the south."
"What do we have?" Lord Whosit asked, leaning in over the map. Athers pulled another one from the rack beside him. It showed the city of Ravus-York.
"We don't have a wall, just a moat that the people have been digging like crazy. It's only six feet deep, and while we're putting sharpened stakes in it, well, it's not going to be enough. We have about twelve companies of soldiers and the Night Eagles in place to defend the city, compared to almost three times that number of Romans."
Whosit blanched. Athers wasn't feeling too good himself at those kind of numbers. The lord assigned to defend France stared moodily out of the tent. "What plans do we have to hurt them?"
"Well, we have our raiders along the road, for one. We also have the citadel-"
"That thing was built when the city was founded. It isn't modern and won't stand up to concentrated fire from catapults."
"It's all we've got in the way of REAL fortifications. We can put archers there to pound the enemy as they advance up the streets, but we'll need more then that to stop them. We can try to put up a protective screen around the citadel, but I think that would hurt us more then the Romans. After all, they have the numerical advantage."
"You'd recommend pulling back to the citadel proper, letting them break on the walls."
"Nothing so optimistic, my lord, but in spirit, yes, that's exactly what I'd do. If the walls of the citadel are breached, we can still fall back into the main fortress and try to retreat through the escape tunnels."
"You've blocked almost all the tunnels with your little surprise for the Romans, Captain Athers. I fail to see how our guys can get out around all your materials."
"Well . . . I guess we just have to hope."
Whosit shook his head angrily. "I will NOT use that plan you cooked up back in England with Lighthearter. Simply - NO. You would ravage more then the Romans!"
"I know, my lord, but we may have no other choice."
Whosit muttered something and looked up at Athers across the map table. "Athers, give me a worst-case. We lose Ravus-York. What can we expect?"
"Worst worst case or realistic worst case?"
"Hmmm . . . worst worst."
"Well . . . we lose all of France, the Romans use their Preatorians to smash through the Pyrenees and ravage Iberia-"
"About what I'd expect from the parliament speeches lately."
"I'm getting to that." Athers felt a cold chill gnawing in his stomach. "It gets worse. If we lose, then the Christian block attempts a coup - and the Romans invade England."
Whosit stared at Athers for a long while. "And how realistic is that assesment, Captai-"
"Lord Whosit! Lord Whosit!"
The lord turned and took the sealed envelop from the runner and opened it. He scanned it, then paled again. "Tomorrow." He said to Athers. "They'll be at Ravus tomorrow."
OOC: We're gonna have some fun now, kiddes!
- Lighthearter