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100 Year War (Farcry/Risi

Farcry

Super-Earth
Joined
Dec 9, 2010
Risi said:
Farcry said:
Risi said:
Farcry said:
Risi said:
Farcry said:
Risi said:
Farcry said:
The grounds were a mess as serfs had been bringing in supplies for the upcoming war. What a stupid war it was. Still it was war and the lords had called up all those able bodied people to assist. Those unlucky few who had survived the plague now would be filling the great bailey of the castle so that Caval could teach them how to kill and how to die with honor. The thought gnawed at his gut and Caval wanted nothing more than to go drink but he still needed to ensure that there was enough weapons and armor for the troops coming in. Of course there was, the plague had made sure that there was an abundance of such supplies lying around for any man to take up and use.

Caval was weary. God almighty it seemed was pissing on him with this unending drizzling rain, the king had ruined his life, having already given fourteen years of service in the king's military and after losing all of those years and so much more he was repaid by being dragged out here to teach boys. The idea disgusted him and yet he knew he would do all he could now and on the field to make sure they made it back alive. Even if that meant scarring them into abandoning the military and returning home. Of course the draft was mandatory but no lord had enough men himself to hunt down and kill able bodied deserters. At least that was Caval's hope.

With the mud sticking to his boots he shouted orders to a pair of serfs to move some of the food stock in out of the rain. It was clear that he wasn't the only one tired of this life. Many were these days and the threat of the Black Prince coming with his army did nothing to raise anyone's mood.

"Hm?" Caval didn't quite make out the shout from one of the guards.

"Travelers! A lot of them. It's like it's carnival time." The youth shouted with glee.

Caval sighed at the thought of meeting these men. This would just be the first batch, the eager ones but in the next few days this bailey would still be muddy on the dryest of days from the feet of those soldiers and the hoofs of the cavalry.
"Sir!" Caval bowed deeply as the lord passed by with several advisers and aids.

"Mmmm. Make sure the new recruits are ready for inspection and... clean up this place." Came the nonchalant commands of a man Caval had served under previously during this same war and he was a cowardly cadamite then and assuredly was one now.

His jaw became set but all Caval said was, "Of course m'lord."
The message had come, late one night in the middle of the city square. "All able bodied men! Fight with your countrymen! Take up arms and defend out great nation!" the caller yelled, telling of the sum each man's family would receive; it wasn't much but after the plague it was an income.

All of her city's men were dead from plague, all that were left were women and children. Some of the ten year old boys begged their mothers to leave, but they were told they had to help protect their small village. Ivy, Rosaline, and Alexander had been left by their mother, father, and oldest brother in the plague. Now the children were left in a predicament. Ivy, the oldest, couldn't work within the village because she wasn't old enough, but Rosaline and Alexander needed to eat and be clothed. That night, she decided that she was off to war, to protect her siblings.

"Take care of each other, ration the food. When I show up, you will receive some money, spend it wisely, okay?" she said as she wished them well, tears flowing freely. "And if any one asks, I was lost to the plague, not Ivan," she added quickly and embraced them both, leaving a kiss upon each of their heads and left in the direction of the army's camp. She didn't have much on her back, a bit of bread and some of Ivan's old clothes. And a small knife.

Down the road, when her brother and sister couldn't see her, she lopped her long blonde locks from her head, giving herself a bob that would pass for a man's hair. It was a bit off center, but she didn't know, and even if she did, there wasn't much she could do about it. Wrapped around her torso were bandages to hide her breasts, even them out against her stomach. Looking down at herself, she shook her head, she looked so pudgy and fat. The clothes fell loose on her as she was much shorter than her brother had been, but she looked like a big tree stump as she attempted to hide her hips as well.

The rain began to fall as night came, she banded together with a few other men headed in the same direction, but said nothing to them. They arrived soon after, grabbing supplies from the designated areas and setting up an area where they would stay while they trained. Each section held ten men, and as Ivy walked around, it seemed everyone had made acquaintances and were full within their sections. Along the way she saw more men then she had in her life, all doing men-like things, letting loose, telling of the woman he had back at home, or wished he did, or how he was stronger, could spit further, or had a bigger penis than the man next to him.

Ivy finally found an open spot and quickly grabbed it. "Whats your name, son?" a man next to her asked. He was burly and had a long beard, "Mine's Paul," he said as he extended a dirty hand. "Ive-Ivan," she corrected quickly and pressed her hand to his. The man shook hard and she held back a wince as he did. After the shake, she held her hand, rubbing it as they conversed. As they talked, it soon grew silent, the Lord was here. Ivy hadn't an idea of who the man was, but Paul did. He shushed her and watched on, as the other serfs did, as, what Ivy believed to be, the commander and Lord spoke.
It seemed the stream of young men entering the king's service just to go off and die was endless. How could there still be so many young after the plague took so many of them? Perhaps it was the weather which remained dreary or the over abundance of work but he could not help but think pessimistically about the chances these men had of making it back to their loved ones. After all the same could be said of him.

Shaking his head he tried to listen to the nobleman as he prattled on with hollow praise for soldiers they passed or suggestions about preparations which Caval or someone in his staff had either already done or were just a bad idea and discounted out of hand in the early phases of gearing back up for war. Still Earl Leveque was not nearly as religious as his name would imply but he was related to the hageographer of some saint or another. Caval had heard the story a dozen times and yet like always he wished the most un-Christian of thoughts upon the earl whenever he spoke. Caval had witnessed first hand so many travesties, personal and tactical that had soured him on the man he served out of the misfortune of being born in the province he was.

Leveque was well groomed and despite the weather maintained an air of aristocratic superiority that almost defied the heavens to attempt to ruin his appearance of station. He was just beginning his forties and looked good for his age, though his features were marred by an overly long nose. Caval on the other hand was quite different from the lord of the castle. Strong from years of working building forts, camps, fighting, tending fields, he had the solid musculature of a man of the land. His dark hair had grown out and in time he knew he'd have to cut it short. Yet he was only just starting his thirties.

Finally the show of what passed for noblesse oblige by Leveque the lord retired to his inner chambers to enjoy the warmth of the hearth in a room that was not damp as it seemed everything outside was.

"Come on! Gather up! I don't have time and neither do you now!" Caval shouted and a few other sergeants started up as well, rousing the soldiers to come to the training yard. Not so much a yard as one of several areas which had been cleared to provide the soldiers space to operate as they would need. "Everyone who came with a horse to the left! Your left, not mine." Caval made his way leisurely but straight to a position at the head of the field to gaze out of the assembling conscripts.
Paul and Ivy followed the group to the left side of the Commander(Sergeant?). Most of the men had come with horses, though she suspected most had been stolen from people of their cities, so only a few were lined up on the same side as Ivy. The men with horses looked down upon the ones without, they took it as a sign of status. Ivy pulled lightly at her lip, as she pondered where she would end up dying. Everyone knew the ones without horses went in to the battlefield first. Internally kicking herself in the arse, she wished she had stolen a horse as well.

They were broken off into groups, the handsome-looking Commander took her group while the other Sergeants broke off the horse group. Ivy caught herself making eyes at the man instinctively, then grew angry at herself. They were given broad swords and were instructed to use them. Ivy's eyes nearly popped from her sockets as she watched the men wield them around, making it look like it was nothing at all to lift it, when it took nearly all of her just to hold it.

Her thin arms shook slightly, but she held it. Paul laughed at her heartily with his large belly laugh. "C'mon kid, do some damage!" he chuckled at her. Ivy shook her head and attempted to lunge, but dropped the sword instead, resulting in the entire group laughing at her. She scrambled to pick it up, but in the mud it was more difficult, making her hands slippery and the metal hard to grasp. "Please, just pick up the sword..." she told herself under her breath as their laughter continued.
"Those with horses you will be with Gerard and Esme." Caval gestured to the two younger noblemen. Esme was a homely and thick individual while Gerard had just stunning features, unfortunately he knew it and it was known in many of the towns near his own lands that any woman of passing comeliness needed to be wary and travel quickly and with escort. Beyond being a vicious womanizer he was also a task master to those under him. Some knew what they could expect considering the people who would be commanding them while others blindly began shuffling towards the two commanders. Caval rolled his eyes. These kids had no sense of military order and that was going to be a problem. "You will be scouts or horse archers.... Dismissed."

Sure there was more to say but discipline would have to be instilled first. Finally he turned towards those who were remaining put. His eyes narrowed into a glare at one guy who had gotten his left and right mixed up realized he should be going with the cavalry and now having to make his way through all the remaining infantry. "Alright, when the weather clears up we will see if any of you should be archers, until then you are mine. You will be swordsmen. This is a great honor. This isn't throwing javelins or using spears, these are real swords. You will be up close and personal with your opponent. You will be looking into the eyes of your foe as he dies. This is a most prestigious and difficult position to be in." Declared the commoner who has seen his rank increase during the decade and a half of service. For now he was using that same inspiring voice he'd used so many other times when he would have to bury his self doubt and his hatred for the very war that changed him from starving serf to well fed military commander.

As he spoke the swords were handed out. Young children, boys ran about distributing the deadly implements. While moving off the lion's share of the infantry Caval noticed a youth looking at him. He offered a well meaning smile in return at first, since he could only imagine the young man was scared and looking to his guidance and experience for support. That the young man didn't look away for a bit was a little odd, but the need for men to fight was large and had accepted almost all comers. Caval wasn't sure what this youth's issue was.

Though after a few minutes of instruction and then beginning of drills Caval got a little bit more of a clue. A number of the soldiers started laughing and then the amount laughing just kept increasing. Angrily he stormed over pushing away some of them until he saw what the problem was. The same man who had looked at him earlier was now being mocked for being too weak to swing the sword. Sharply he turned around to the others, "Shut up!" He barked. "This is your brother in arms. We are all brothers in arms. If there is any part of us that needs work, then we work, we improve. We do NOT insult or laugh. We are brothers. Now, the lot of you, three laps around the entire bailey. Then we will start drills with these swords once your ready to work together."

Then he turned to the man who was the focus of ridicule. "You..." My was this boy young. His features were soft, he had not a hint of a beard or even the need to shave. Also he had an odd body shape, with that barrel like chest yet the thin arms. "You clearly need to strengthen yourself for the sword, so while they run you will do push ups. Until the last of them finishes their run." Something needed to be done to strengthen those arms. Caval waited until the youth started with his punishment. "What's your name? Do you even know what you have signed up for?" The commander could see the fear and anxiety, the optimistic energy in others, the myriad of emotions and rationale that many of these men had for going to war and feared for many of their lives.
(I'll show you how much I wrote with the ipod... Its pretty intense now that I look at it...)
(here) Normally, Ivy would have begun to cry, she never had taken criticism well. But she had to hold it together, she was Ivan now. Ivan was strong and manly, something Ivy was definitely not, but she needed to learn quickly. As the Commander told them of their brotherhood, she gulped. It was another reminder to the secret she held. As she began with the push ups, the Commander asked her name. Ivy was glad that she had nearly made the slip up with her name earlier so she knew not to do it now. "Ivan, and no, sir, I didn't. My family needs food on the table," she tried a huskier voice than her own, hoping it would help her pass as a man.

The men running were huffing and puffing after their first lap, slacking now as Ivy attempted the first real pushups of her life. The mud squished beneath her fingers, grossing her out and making her gag slightly. She hadn't felt like more of a girl in her life, but then it worsened. Her arms gave out from underneath her, resulting in her face and torso dropping into the mud.

"Uch," she unconsciously uttered as she attempted to pull herself back up. This cycle continued until the men finally finished the laps. After a few more exercises, they were told to head to bed and get ready for the morning.

Filing out, Ivy felt completely exausted and embarrassed. Her clothes, hair, and skin was filled with sticky mud. She turned to Paul as they headed back to their area, "Where can I bathe?" He chuckled at her once again, "Ha! Bathe? If you can find a stream, you can bathe there." She nodded and walked off, carrying her toiletries, but in the distance she heard him laugh at her cleanliness once again.

About a fourth of a mile away, she found a small tributary she could stand in and be completely covered. Ivy stripped down, looking carefully around for other men, then hung her clothes on a branch with her piece of cloth to substitute as a towel. (to here) She walked into the cool water gingerly. Her arms were sore, but so was her body, and the water glazed over her relaxingly. The water was murky, due to the rain, but she rinsed her face and hair off in it.

She cautiously touched the ends of her hair, cut so short by her normal standards. Tears pressed against her eyelids as she closed her eyes and wept, not only for her hair, but for Rosa and Alex. Man up, she told herself, angrily wiping away her tears and reaching for her homemade bar of soap. After a clean soak, she reached for her makeshift towel and dried off.
The build up of stress in Ivan was obvious and Caval felt awful. Poor kid was just here to get his family some food. That he couldn't keep his face out of the mud was just sad. "Ivan, you are going to need to work hard. You can't fail us and we won't fail you. I will make sure your family gets fed." Despite being the tough commander that he is he couldn't help but feel for all these poor guys.

Turning his attention away from the youth he set them to their paces, running them through drills and practicing well past when normal break down points. Still even Caval took part in the exercises with the troops, sparring with some. He informed all of them that they would need to improve, that they had to get better before the English attacked again.

After dismissing the soldiers Caval went into the keep and had dinner with the other commanders and each debrief Leveque on what they thought about the troops. Not that Leveque honestly cared, the weak would die and the strong would continue. There were necessary losses, those who would catch the arrows of the English longbow men. Caval played along. "The swordsmen will need some time, they are undisciplined, none of them have swung a sword before..."

"They will be ready by the end of the month. The Black Prince will not wait for us to be ready." Leveque interrupted him before turning to ask about Esme.

Caval was disappointed and quickly excused himself. The rain had finally let up and the clear night was cool but pleasant. Disgusted as he was with the nobility he served and disappointed in his soldiers and himself Caval thought nothing could help cleanse himself of the grime then a bath. Yet he couldn't bathe too close to the castle as subordinates might be there, so he went a little ways down. Needless to say he was surprised when in the dark of night he saw the blocky silhouette of someone else by the riverside. Walking up half naked the commander called out, "Excuse me, who goes there!?"
She dried her body of meticulously in moonless night. Her calves curved in the perfect places for tone but still soft. Her hip were grabbable, and though she wasn't a perfect hourglass figure her breasts matched pretty well to her womanly body proportions. As she surveyed herself, confirming that she hadn't actually turned into a stump, she bit her lip gently and began washing out her clothes with the mud on them. Though she was nearly nude, she figured she was safe for at least the moment.

Ivy had already wrapped the long bandage around her torso as the commander approached. Her shirt, however, was not on. "Ivan," she called gruffly, as she rushed to clothe herself before he got to close to see what was really going on.

She figured that if she could see him, he could have seen her. Her brow furrowed in frustration, figuring that if she was found out there was no way that her siblings would get fed. Begging was an option...

"Please, Sir. I'm sorry..." she began
Seeing the young man hurrying to get dressed the military veteran shook his head. Such modesty, and how was it some guy came all the way out here? Kind of baffling and then he figured it out, this was Ivan and probably the other soldiers were giving him crap for not being able to swing a sword and for having to run laps.

"Sorry? Whatever for?" He took his time walking parallel to where Ivan was, keeping his eyes on the river. Ivan had very shapely legs given his thick chest. It hardly went together. His limbs were too thin and he carried all his weight in his torso. People are made in all shapes and sizes.

Just before peeling off his wet pants Caval took a deep breath, enjoying the night air. "Ivan, don't be nervous. Just keep your head on straight and work with your brothers out there." As he spoke he draped his clothes over a nearby bush before heading down to the shore line. "And if the other guys give you any crap, let me or one of the sergeants know." Clearly though that had already happened.

True to what was visible before the northern Frenchman was very muscular the way a person who does physical labor all the time is. While tall other younger taller men were present within the camp. Otherwise his features were hard to make out in the shrouded riverside late at night. As he stepped deep into the river his hair fanned out and dragged downstream due to the current.
 
Stammering, realizing she had not actually been caught, Ivy backed up quickly as he began to undress. "I-um-uh...for bothering you!" she exclaimed finally, almost in triumph over thinking up something plausible. Had he had been looking in her direction in the daylight, or even moonlight, he would have seen the blush rise over her cheeks as he placed his wet pants over the bush.

Scurrying away in the night, she left a bandage or two, but in the big picture it didn't matter too much in her girth. When she arrived back at the camp area, most of the men were at the fireside, drinking and being merry despite the situation. Ivy, on the other hand, was dead tired. After putting her things away in a small sack, she pulled out the bed roll she was given and laid on it, staring up at the stars. Soon, her body gave out on her and she fell fast asleep. Like a rock.
 
Caval tried to give the poor man his privacy, since clearly he was unused to bathing near others. Something he was going to have to overcome in the days and weeks to come. Instead the veteran enjoyed his invigorating bath in the cool river. Afterwards he made his way back to camp to chat with some of the soldiers before getting some sleep as well. The excitement and new comrades kept many of the conscripts up til late but Caval knew what sort of morning was in for them.

It wasn't just one morning either but every morning for just over three weeks. The soldiers were awoken early to drumming and shouting of Caval and his sergeants. They had exercises in the morning, a breakfast that was not fancy but filling. Followed by sword practice up until lunch time. After lunch they learned how to set up camps, build stockades, latrines, trenches, embankments, how to repair their armor, care for their weapons and more. It was strenuous work that forced them to use almost every muscle and meant that after the first night the amount of merriment at night was little to none.

On the other hand the soldiers bonded over the adversity, the commonality that most had of being serfs, having lost family members during the plague, the lack of food at home, wives, girlfriends, lovers, children, each man learned they had much in common with the others. As well their commanders, while there was some distance due to station and position these men had experienced much the same. Though the rumors about the commanders were rarely confirmed and were varied.

Caval for instance had a family, they were dead, only his children were dead, his wife was a captured English woman, his wife was dead, they died during the plague or were burned alive by the English, he was in fact a nobleman who had lost his position due to cowardice or he was a criminal who gained his position due to great valor. There was little consensus and he verified none of it, simply smiling. Yet he spoke about others families in a knowing, loving fashion. If he was single all these years he was an odd one. He did spend a good deal of time with the soldiers and after that first night took his meals more often than not with the men. In time he was learning each of their names and discovering what their stories were.

Other commanders had different ways of dealing with the soldiers. Esme was approachable yet a bit aloof and never ate with the men since there was better food inside the keep. Gerard drank heavily with his troops and enjoyed telling saucy tales of sexual exploits and more than once a man walked away wondering if one of his stories was about their sister, mother or cousin. Leveque was hardly ever seen but his presence was always appearant in the little things, the food, the declarations about payments being made, new strange aspects of training.
 
The days wore hard on Ivy's body. And though she gained muscles like the other men, hers did not make her look like a body builder with a pot belly. Her arms became strong, as did her legs and the facade she was putting on for the men.

The food was bland, but every time she ate she thought of her siblings alone in their small cottage, hoping that someone from the city was looking after them despite the plague. Fireside chats with the Commander, Paul, and the other soldiers made her heart ache for them and their family's, late or alive. Ivy, however, never once shared her story, afraid something would be inconsistent down the road.

They had become a band of brothers, that much was true. But they didn't know they had a little sister among their ranks and Ivy intendended to keep it that way, even when Paul egged her on to talk and open up with the group. It was almost a support group for grown men after the plague. Sadly enough though, the English were gaining in speed and would soon be upon them, meaning some of guises brothers would die.
 
One evening Caval found Ivan away from the other men and walked up with that look of concern that he always possessed. At no point did he not stress about his soldiers, the war and France. Walking along with the youth he spoke in quiet tones, not wanting to be overheard by other passing soldiers, "Ivan, I wanted to talk to you, to tell you something. The other soldiers here, you are all brothers. We all look out for each other, so if you need to talk, need assistance, feel free to..." He broke off as a messenger ran up.

"Commander! Message." As if messengers ever had anything else to say, he handed Caval a piece of paper.

Caval looked at the paper and his brow furrowed, his eyes darkened. He gave a sharp nod then turned to Ivan. "Excuse me." With that he was gone, leaving Ivan and the rest of the soldiers alone for the evening with their thoughts and discussions.

The next morning though as the soldiers awoke and got their prepared for the day something was different, the food for breakfast was already prepared and waiting for them. Despite the commanders not talking about it the soldiers were quick with the rumor and eventually the commanders ominous air about them confirmed that the British were coming and that war was upon them.

"Gather up!" Came the familiar call of Caval as he yelled for the soldiers to come to the training field. "As many of you have figured out the British dogs have come back to our lands, to threaten our families, our king, our way of life! We will push them back to the canal and see them drown for their insolence!" He and the other commanders gave short inspiring speeches before the soldiers broke down camp and started out of Leveque's castle, though Leveque did not accompany them and off to face the English. Caval walked alongside his own soldiers armed as they were though his armor was much more impressive and heavy.
 
As Caval approched her, worry filled her still small body. Shit, shit, shit, she thought as he drew nearer, obviously picking up on the solider-like language. The way he looked at her when he spoke... He had to know. There was no way he could say that and not know. She shook her head, about to admit to her crimes as the messenger came up and he wisked away. Ivy was left with a sigh of relief, but she wondered what would happen next time she was cornered by him.

The relief didnt last long though. Once the battle was announced the camp she had been calling home was uprooted to move and fight for their country. What's so wrong with the Brittish? she pondered but did not dare ask.

She watched on almost longingly as Caval made his speech to the troops, but caught herself before it lasted too long. They were off to war, of course, not love. Though all is fair in both. And though Ivy had been selfless in leaving her siblings, she never thought what would happen if she died or was capured by the enemy. These thoughts appeared in her head as they walked towards the approaching army, not too far away.
 
The marching lasted for days. Armies are slow things and the British were just striking out. It was in ways both better and far worse than the training. While now there was a purpose an reason for what they were doing, unfortunately that reason was war and it was looming not far on the horizon. Caval seemed to spend ever more time with the soldiers for soon they would be fighting side by side and some would not make it.

As they marched other soldiers from other lords came and joined them. Even less fortunate souls conscripted as spear men arrived, archers and crossbowmen seemed to constantly add to the armies number. Finally they saw their first impact of war as the long train of the military came into contact with the seemingly endless line of refugees. Women, children, the old, rarely a man of any middling age walked by, slowly, carrying what they could on their backs. On the rare occasion a pack animal went by it dragged a litter with some wounded or ill person tied to it.

Caval was disgusted, angered by what he saw. When there was a brief break in the line of refugees he would turn to his soldiers and remind them, "This is why we fight. This war may be about who is king of France but it is for this, these people, our families that we fight." He would jab a finger at one of the men, happened to be the young and skittish Charles, "You do not fight for just your family, but all of your brothers families. It is not your mother, sisters, brothers, cousins that you fear will be hurt by this war but all of ours. We will fight as one and push the British back off of our land. I will fight for all of you."

Finally they passed through a town where the various commanding lords had decided would be their base and were in the process of fortifying. Off in the distance, in the direction the road continued smoke could be seen rising from the horizon. Civilians would whisper and say that the British could not afford to keep the citizens of the town alive or let them flee lest they come back as soldiers, so they were killing them and burning their bodies. The truth though, the British were now just a days march away.
 
The marching never ceased. And though the soldiers had been trained, Ivy felt like she hadn't been trained for marching days on end, or seeing her fellow people walking along away from the war. It struck a heart string, knowing that she couldn't let that happen to her brother and sister. Her feet kept moving though, on and on, mile after mile. Sometimes she wondered if she had fallen asleep on her feet after stretches of land had passed without recognition.

Once the base was established, Ivy crashed. Most went to drink, play around with the women of the town, or help with defenses of the town. Ivy, on the other hand, found a place to put her bed roll and just lied down and fell asleep. Her body was not built for this. Not in the slightest. Sleeping though the night and soon into morning, Ivy was in for a rude surprise when she awoke; much like the other soldiers.

Screams were heard on the outskirts of the town. The British had attacked in the early hours of the morning, marching through the night. It left the soldiers tired, but the adrenalin pumping through their veins overrode that. If they survived, they would be exhausted later. The French, on the other hand, were not only unprepared, but most were drunk. Luckily, since Ivy had fallen asleep in her marching gear, she was more ready than most for a fight.

Used to being the underdog, the French pulled it together quickly with shouts from commanders from all around the city. Ivy's first kill, she nearly couldn't do it, but there was a fire in the man's eyes that told her he would if she didn't. A sniffle came, holding back the tears from taking that first life. She couldn't stand this, but she also knew she had to endure. Paul soon found her and they begun fighting together like old friends, knowing close to every move the other had.

The fight raged on, Ivy found herself stepping over dead men left and right, tripping every once and awhile to be caught by Paul and a laugh. The blood and gore clogged her throat with disgust and sorrow. Ivy couldn't understand how someone could do this every day, let alone enjoy it and make a career.
 
Caval met with the various commanders in the town that was their base. It was a miserable meeting and it went almost nowhere. All they could agree on was that defenses had to be built but by whom was a contentious issue. So it was that Caval was up late dealing with issues where he was often ignored due to his lack of noble birth. As well he did help with some of the barricade construction before a need for sleep saw him to bed.

He awoke as most everyone else did to the shouts of war and dying. Not having the time to put on his armor he simply grabbed his sword and charged out into the conflict. It would have been disturbing how naturally killing someone came back to Caval if he had time to think about anything. Instead all there was is the reflexive action of thrust, parry, counter attack. As sword bit into muscle, sinew and bone Caval would follow through with vicious intent before moving on.

This did not mean he lacked goals, instead he fought his way closer to his own men, shouting orders, getting them to form up and remember their training. With a grunt Caval got hit by the pommel of a Englishman's sword on the back swing before he stuck his own sword half way into the opponents guts. Eventually he was able to make it into and past where his soldiers were camped and was able to form up most of them. Thankfully fighting in the streets meant that the British couldn't use their archers as effectively, while the French could simply fire indiscriminately at the English who were waiting outside the town.

Eventually the combat subsided as the French had been able to fall back to defensive positions and the British were no longer able to make any headway. At this point most every inhabitant of the town was bloodied, whether it was villagers defending their homes or bandaging the wounded or the soldiers stuck deep into the conflict.

Panting, the commander had the blood of others on him, foe and ally alike. Yet he had removed his shirt and was using it to staunch the blood of one of his soldiers, a young man named Marneau, it was doubtful he would survive his wounds but Caval stayed with him. "Get him some wine. Go repair that fence." He continued to shout order between telling the dying man that he would be fine, his mother was okay and how brave and honorable he had been.
 
Thankfully, Ivy didn't sustain any injuries within the small battle. A few times she had been hit with the hilt of a sword in attempts of counter attack, but by then the man was already impaled upon her sword. Though, not many were counted to her, as far as death count, as she avoided it at all costs.

The conclusion of the fighting was anti-climatic, and most had slight celebrations for the lives of their fallen brothers, and the deaths of their enemies. Ivy went to the dying men of the field, not really able to help it, and attempted to assist in any way, even if they were British. Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she told them stories of happiness as they passed on. She finally found herself kneeling next to Caval over Marneau. Though Caval wasn't harsh, he lacked the woman's touch. Ivy, of course, did not but she had to disguise it within manliness.

Her voice was soft, her touch softer, as she told him how he would be better off and they would defeat the British with his eyes watching from a higher place. Once the light faded from his eyes, she rose silently and headed away from the bloodied bodies, beginning to decay. After asking around, she found a place to bathe the red stains from her hands that would be private. She followed the directions and found herself at a near-by small lake and went through the same procedure as before, but this time she walked in with her clothes in attempts to wash them as well; but more so, protect her secret.
 
Caval looked at the young Ivan, he was certainly an odd one and his approach with the dying Marneau made him curious if he was perhaps a man of the cloth before being sent here to kill. Once he'd left Caval asked some of the other soldiers, including his buddy Paul about the sort of man Ivan was.

Yet he was also busy directing the soldiers to prepare defenses, dig graves, take account of their supplies and the such. Caval took the time to clean up briefly and then put on his armor as all of the soldiers, except those digging graves were ordered to do. This was no time to get caught unprepared a second time. Everyone needed to pitch in and Caval made sure they were and yet, Ivan was no where to be found at first.

Turning to one of the soldiers he told him, "Find Ivan and tell him I need to talk to him." He was going to find out about this odd youth. Caval himself made himself available in a centralized location helping tear down a house to use it to build up the barricades for the town.
 
Once she had finished her bathing and washing of the clothes, she looked along her body once again as some bruises had formed along her arms, legs and back. Her once pale skin was darkened from the sun and now beaten upon. Rubbing her now wet eyes, she wished for one day where she could be a woman again. Not have to take care of killing people, protecting the family, or bringing home the food. Not have to keep pushing once her body hurt.

After a few minutes of sulking, she toweled herself off and headed back into town, where she was soon assaulted by another soldier, telling her that Commander Caval wanted to see her. The man that Ivy suspected knew her secret. She gulped, though her voice was stuck in her throat so she nodded and began to walk to the inner town where she suspected he would be.

She found him, constructing barricades as she had been told he was doing. Her palms grew damp with nervousness. Certainly he couldn't turn her away after all the men that had been slain earlier tonight. Certainly. Her mind flashed back to the day on the battlefield, kneeling beside the dying men, and then finally next to Caval trying to do as she had across the battlefield. maybe she had shown too much kindness. Maybe it was the deciding factor.

Ivy caught his eye, "You wanted to see me, Sir?" Her brain was on overload, she wanted to scream, cry, and pout at everything she had been through, but she stood still and kept quiet.
 
Caval finished sharpening the top of one of the barricade wall posts and then wiping away the sweat from his brow he stuck the axe deep into a log. Turning towards Ivan he inclined his head and then stepped down from where he was. "Walk with me Ivan." He said in a friendly tone as he started to walk away from all the construction going on behind them.

"So, Ivan I heard you did a good job for yourself out there, good." The man was still a bit sweaty from the days work. "But let me be honest, you are an odd one. The way you spoke to Marceau today, there was .... Tell me, what were you before you joined us?" He inquires with genuine interest as his eyes narrowed looking at the young man.
 
Ivy had to decide, in an instant, whether the man knew her secret or not. Quickly, she decided that if he wanted the truth he would have to come straight out with it and call her female. She would never admit that seed of truth aloud. "I just lived with parents, my younger brother and sisters. That was until both of my parents and one of my sisters died in the plague." She took a deep breath. He had to believe her, right?

She struggled to think of a time before the plague, attempting to recall what Ivan had been in apprenticeship for. Then it hit her, "I was training to be in pharmaceutics." She stuttered though, not knowing anything of the trade, "Um, but I er-don't really know much of it because the plague soon hit and killed my overseer." Ivy gulped, it sounded like such a lie, he was going to out her and then prosecute her to the fullest extent of the law. Her brother and sister were going to starve.
 
Caval hated to think that a soldier was lying to him but Ivan was acting weird. Things just weren't adding up but what was he going to do about it. The youth was a good soldier, a good person but something was just off. After a bit he slowed down and looked at the youthful man. "Ivan..." He paused just after beginning trying to figure out what was important right now. "Ivan, you are a good soldier but ... I think you are lying to me. It is not an accusation I take lightly and if you are offended I would not blame you, but I pride myself on being very forthright with my men and I expect the same. If you have your reasons I will do my best to respect that but..." It was clear he was disappointed.

"If there is anything you need to help you and yours let me know, but just be honest with me." At this Caval stopped and looked at Ivan. "If you have nothing more to say to me, then fall in with your squad, I believe they are aiding on the defenses on the west side of town." The veteran gave a curt nod to Ivan and hoped that it was nothing big and that all would turn out well.
 
Ivy kept tight lipped. She couldn't stand to think what would happen to her, let alone her siblings. "I'm not lying to you," she said curtly and went to fall into the ranks with the other men of her section. The task of being a soldier was hard enough, but on top of that she had to pull off a twenty-four hour charade. As she walked, she noticed the lack of manliness she had, and the mass amounts that others had. Starting with facial hair, then her small features and her continuously thin arms despite the workouts and training.

As she was headed to the west side, taking the less traveled roads as she was teary, when a man came up behind her and struck her on the back of her head, knocking her out cold. Her captor wasn't sure if anyone had seen, and there might be a few civilian witnesses, but it wouldn't matter much.

When she awoke, she was in a makeshift holding cell. When she sat up a guard called to an unidentified person, "She's awake!" In that moment, Ivy realized that she no longer had her bandages for padding, rather just a makeshift sham that barely covered anything. The cloth was low cut, a large v-like rip in the front for her head, and it wasn't very long and only fell to cover the bottoms of her butt cheeks.
"Shiiit..." she muttered as the next realization hit, she was in a British holding cell and the footsteps headed towards her were not ones that would hold in innocence.

(Optional paragraph below... I'm not sure if you want to play this man as well, or if you want me to. I thought it might be a bit difficult if you played Caval and who ever we deem this guy. But, its what ever you want. So take the paragraph or leave it. ;])
"Well, what do we have here?" the shadowed man asked. Ivy could only see the outline of him, a tall, muscular man. "Its good to see that you have awoken..." he trailed off with a slight chuckle. She nodded, finding that her head hurt from the blow to the back of her head. The male continued, "Here I was hoping that I would get a valuable informant, only to get that and a sexy young woman!" She rolled her eyes and shifted her attention away from the man, not wanting to give him the power of it. "Now, now..." he chided, "Don't be like that. How long have you been acting like a male in their ranks? Long enough. Don't you want to be free of that?" He was teasing her now and Ivy didn't appreciate it. "Fuck off," she began, but the man cut her off. "I see you have been around them too long..."
 
[censored]
Farcry said:
One moment to British soldiers were beginning to have their way with Ivy and the next she was covered in their blood and the two soldiers were replaced by her commanding officer. Caval wearing a British soldier's shirt and was looking at the strange French woman with confusion. That didn't stop him from moving over to undo her binds. She looked familiar but why? Did he meet her in the town that was their camp?

"Good lady, have you heard of a soldier, a French soldier being held here?" He was very certain these were the directions that Englishman gave before he gutted him.

At first she was relieved, even covered in British blood once again, but then the reminder sunk in as she attempted to cover herself with the shredded clothing as she gingerly rose from the chair. "God dammit, Caval, give me a shirt or something..." she irked. Ivy wasn't exactly sure how to react as she didn't know how to tell him what she had been doing.

She scurried from the cell for a moment, searching for her Ivan clothes. She found them just outside the door of her cell and pulled them on quickly, minus the bandages now. They hung on her her now, though the barrel shape was explained with the lack of a even chest and stomach and hips. Ivy no longer resembled an Ivan, and she knew it. She could either flee now, or face the man who had come to save her.

Turning back to the inside of the cell, she looked at Caval. "I didn't tell them anything," she said softly. Her cheekbone was beginning to bruise and her lip was dried with blood. She crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to protect herself somehow, but then she adjusted to extend her arm to a hand shake, "Hi. I'm Ivy. Ivan was my older brother and he died in the plague, rather than I. Everything else I've told you is true though. I can't not be here. I need to feel my siblings, and I'd do anything to help them. Including this." A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she looked up into his eyes. "I'm sorry."
 
Caval was confused at the woman knowing his name but her voice... it was? He did his best not to look at her uncovered body and was for a moment distracted by the strange torture device but then he saw her putting on the clothes of the man he and the others had been searching for and it all made sense, it was painfully, awkwardly clear. Ivan had lied to him, had been lying all this time and now instead what stood before him was a woman who the British had brutalized and he felt awful.

As Ivy finished getting the clothes on Caval removed the sword from one of the deceased British soldiers and moving over to her. "You lied it is true, but you did not lie about the most important thing... your family. Come let us get you out of here. We can talk later. Follow me." With each sentence his voice grew quieter and quieter as he moved to lead her out of the building. Just at the exit they passed another body. "Stick close to me, we're going to go around to the right and then between the root cellar and the outhouse towards the tree line."

The French commander then started off but then something occurred to him and he waved for Ivy to follow. Soon they had weaved their way past a couple of buildings to the back of what used to be an inn. Holding a finger to his lips he crouched down behind a low wall. Looking over it he then gestured for Ivy to notice the two soldiers drinking by the fire. Sliding a finger across his throat he indicated both had to die. Then he pointed to the horses in the stables. Clearly he intended for them to steal some horses.

Silently he counted with his fingers from three to zero at which point he quietly hurdled the wall and ran as quick as he could with his large sword out towards the left most of teh English soldiers.
 
Ivy looked to her commander and nodded, understanding. And though the events earlier had tainted her view of humans, she still hated to kill one, British soldier or not. She followed though, and as Caval ran to the left, she followed with the right. Ivy closed her eyes though, like every kill before, as shoved the sword through the mans back, on hand on his shoulder. Pulling out the blade, she let him fall to the ground with a soft landing, aiding him. She wasn't sure if he was dead or barely hanging on, but she ran towards the horses and quickly mounted one after she sheathed her sword.

Once again, she looked to Caval, who seemed to have all the answers for escaping. She wondered if he would have an answer for escaping her situation with the fact that she was a woman needing to support her siblings.
 
Caval killed the man he'd assigned for himself and then removed a log that was aflame from the fire and kicked it over against the side of the stables. The fire began to spread slowly at first as he mounted a horse. Looking to Ivy he nodded his head sharply seeing that she was ready, then turning the horse to the side he spurred it on to take him quickly away from the vile British base. Behind the stables began to go up in flame and with it the other horses began to spasm and the inn itself started to catch fire.

Once there was some distance between them and the British held town he pulled his horse alongside Ivy's and called to her, "Let us get a few more leagues between us and them and then I think you owe me the truth... m'lady." It was awkward to call a just former brother in arms a female gendered honorific and yet here he was. The young barrel chested soldier with thin arms was a girl who had been trying to hide her figure, all just to make sure her family was fed. That last part was the only consistent aspect of her story. Still he was curious what else she had lied about. And despite himself he could not help but remember her curvaceous form as she was gathering together clothing to regain the modesty that the English had so cruelly denied her.
 
Biting back a comment for the other horses, she rode silently back towards the town. For her, riding a horse was painful and only a few minutes in, Ivy nearly cried from the pain. She was glad she was a bit before Caval so he couldn't see her struggles. The pain dulled over time as she thought of other things, mostly how she was going to get by with Rosa and Alex.

Most of the pain had subsided when Caval had besided her. And with a nod to him she hoped she could convey her aplogeticness. As she looked over to him though, she watched as he viewed her in a different light now, especially with the addition of the 'm'lady'. It was odd for her, to have act like a man for so long and befriend him, only to have him see her in a different light. Not only a woman, but a liar. She pursed her lips together and returned her eyes to the terrain.

After a bit longer they stopped to let the horses rest and, to Ivy's dismay, talk. As she dismounted though, a small whimper escaped her lips and she nearly took a tumble from the soreness of the ride coupled with the contraption forced on her earlier. She clung to the horse to stand pathetically, but she gained her strength to walk to a nearby large rock without problem or enough to fake it. She awaited Caval to join her, but reached into her sheath to locate a ribbon for her hair that she had put in there before she cut it. Working the short locks into a ponytail made her look more feminine, a few of the strands hanging in her eyes because they weren't long enough. As he approached, she pulled her knees into her chest, even though she knew she needn't be in a defensive position. "The only thing I was untruthful about was my name. Technically no one asked me my gender, so I didn't lie about it, everyone just assumed I was male." She shrugged slightly, unsure of what else needed to be said.
 
Caval kept looking around. There was the potential for too much going on, between pursuit, further rescue teams coming forward once they realized a commander was missing and Ivy herself. It was clear the British had brutalized her and he hadn't yet learned how but from the way she was riding he could tell she was wounded. Still they had to get a safe distance first and preferably move off to the east or west so that they weren't just on a direct path between the two enemy bases.

The pain was obvious in her as Ivy made her way off the horse and towards the rock. He would have rushed to her side but instead he had to secure the horses. By the time he was done she had tied up her hair. Caval walked over towards her with concern on his face, despite telling himself that he should be trying to smile to show her a friend but the situation was too stressful at this moment. Every noise he made note of for the simple fact that the enemy could still be anywhere. There was a pause, he wasn't sure how close he should approach considering what it seemed she had been through. The idea of those men assaulting one of his soldiers... a woman like that made his blood boil.

Caval looked at her steadily when she spoke and at first gave a retort without thinking it through, "So when the recruiters came through they asked for every able bodied man and woman?" Quickly he shook his head ashamed of saying something so rude. "I am sorry. This isn't your fault." He spoke more of the recent events than her choice in dressing as a man. "I... This is a very odd event to stumble upon." He looked to the young woman again and this time offered a smile. "How can I help you good lady?" The tone Caval used for women was much friendlier than how he spoke to fellow soldiers. Not that he didn't care about his soldiers, far from it but there was an edge to his voice.

Running a hand up through his hair he felt entirely out of his element. Though somehow Ivy was providing a bright spot in the darkness that is war.
 
His comment stung, even with the attached apology. Pulling her legs closer to her, trying to hide away from him though it was impossible. His 'woman tone' came back though and after she had been an equal, a brother, for so long it was nearly demeaning. She knew he ment well, but it was an additional painful reminder of who she was. A woman.

She would give nearly anything to still be able to support her siblings though. "Let me continue to fight. My brother and sister need me to." She began to bite her lip in frustration, but then regretted it as it began to bleed once again. Pressing her finger to her lip, she tried to make it stop. It didn't work so she just sucked on it gently. She didn't have much else to say beside trying to convey how much she needed to be in the army.

Ivy was a liability though, if they did allow her to fight, most army commanders would target her, being a woman, for information like today. Her eyes shifted downward, averting them from from Caval once again. She was fragile at the moment and she didn't want to convey that in light of his demeaning tone and that she wanted to still fight.
 
Caval felt awful as he saw this woman, this former brother curl up on herself, to close down as she was. He made no move to comfort her, not wanting to upset her further. "Iva-... Ivy, please I..." Then he sighed. He wasn't sure how to act in this situation. It was just something else all together and yet he wanted nothing more than to help the young woman.

"I understand. You joined for your family and that has not changed." He began to pace in front of her, having put a limit as to how close he would allow himself to her. "I will keep your secret." Then something struck him as funny and his lips tugged into a smile. "This explains a lot. You have the oddest body as Ivan. Your chest is like a barrel and yet your arms and legs are so thing and well, your face... Let's just say it makes sense you are a woman."

Stopping his pacing he looks to her once more. "You are upset that I know. Makes sense. I am not sure actually how to act. You are a woman and yet you want to fight like a man. I hope you understand that this is difficult for me... Though it explains things too."

Caval watched Ivy and wanted so much to protect her, to comfort and hold her but every indication she gave was that she was upset and needed her space. If she was just a woman he would have ignored those indicators and comforted her but she was also a soldier and soldiers require space.
 
His distance confused her. It almost seemed as if he was trying to get away from her. As he paced infront of her she unfolded slowly, letting her defenses come down slightly. "So, I still need to act like Ivan?" she questioned, getting frustrated once again. She didn't even mention that she didn't want to fight and kill. She had to.

She couldn't understand how she thought he knew her secret earlier. "You didn't know before? I though you'd figured me out the first time you talked to me. But you just assumed I was oddly shaped," she shook her head at him slowly, still attempting to focus the attention away from her being female.

"I'm sorry this is so confusing for you," her eyes looked back to him, still pulling on her bleeding lip. With her bruised face and broken demeanor, it was clear that she wasn't in a position to think of a plan for the future, so she was relying on Caval for that.
 
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