“The range of my magic is limited but I will help where I can.”
I assume you meant “That sounds fine with me and T-”. 
The Lord Ironhall looks up from the map, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “You Faramonds are certainly a strange family. Come, witch, what can you divine from these maps? What portents do the winds hold for the upcoming battle?”
“I get the sense that our best course of action is Baldur’s plan.”
I’m pretty sure if you go back you’ll see that the Lady Shedlund’s horses were returned to her.
With everyone in town preparing for the upcoming battle all businesses are closed and it’s difficult to find anyone to buy most of the gear the party has salvaged. Cyrus is forced to ride up and down along the streets, shouting what he has available to the peasants who scamper back and forth. He gets a few offers from poorly-armed conscripts for the weapons he has, including a bag of salt in exchange for the steel longsword. A voice calls out to the noble from the crowd; an Arcadian merchant is standing by his wagon which is being hastily loaded with goods by the man’s family, likely to evacuate Ironhall before the battle comes. The merchant, an olive-skinned senior with a shaved head and a checkerboard tattoo design on his neck, makes a quick offer to Cyrus:
7cp for each short sword and scabbard.
3cp for the spear.
1sp and 5cp for the longsword.
5cp for the wedding ring.
2cp for the handmirror.
1cp for the boar bristle brush.
Cyrus isn’t one of the best at appraising the worth of items but even to him it’s obvious that this would be a steal for the merchant, particularly the ring and mirror. That being said, he likely won’t get another chance to sell anything before the battle.
Cyrus accepts the offer, not being particularly inclined to haggle.
Okay, but if it’s fine with you, I’d like to come with.
Assuming I’m with Cyrus, and this is said in earshot of the merchant
Not so fast. It’s not as if this stuff is overburdening us, and I imagine Ironhall woud be willing to store this for us temporarily, since we have basically prevented a mass slaughter of his lands, so it’s not pressing for us to have to sell at this point, particularly for these prices, which you being trained in weapons should know is on the level of cutting-our-own-throats. We’re not desperate for cash right now, either, so let’s not act rashly.
Meanwhile, those halberds sound like a good idea. Are the men-at-arms able to switch from bow to spear and back, or do we need to choose before battle?
Have the light horse drawn up in two companies, keep the heavies separate.
As to the conscripts, it would cheer Hrothgar greatly if there were a couple score woodsmen among them with axes or bills, and if so, he’d like them told off into a separate body. The rest he wants formed up into three groups, for convenience’s sake designated “Bulls”, “Rams” and “Stallions” - and also for the encouragement of the men (there is possibly an inspirational speech there, along the lines of “The enemy think they’re coming to slaughter cattle, sheep and asses, but…”). Put a mixture of weapons in each, such as they have.
Are there scouts out to warn us of the enemy’s approach, and who can best advise Hrothgar as to the lay of the land they must cover? Any of the following would be a good place to give battle:
- a really narrow valley, especially with sides that are hard to scale in a hurry
- a bridge, especially over a river that is hard to ford
- a road through a forest
- a small steep hill, especially if partly wooded.
But Hrothgar will also hear suggestions from people with local knowledge.
“You want to haggle with merchants? Be my guest. That’s not what I came here for, anyway.”
Cyrus leaves Henry with the salvaged items and coins, and returns back to the rest of the group. He finds Hrothgar and pulls him aside.
To Hrothgar - “Whatever debt you think you owe me; it’s been paid. Several times, by my reckoning.”
Cyrus hands Hrothgar a copper chain with an enormous canine tooth pendant.
“I pulled it from that fae-damned mistwolf alpha. If you choose to stay with us, it shouldn’t be to service a debt. You’re worthy of more than Faramond can offer.”
Men are able to carry both spears and longbows. It takes time to switch from spear to firing a longbow and when they do their spears and shields must be thrown to the ground.
Done. There are now three groups of cavalry: Two groups of 25 light cavalry and a single group of 20 heavy cavalry.
Done. Perhaps 100 of the 700 conscripts have felling axes and have been separated into a group.
Done. There are now three groups of approximately 200 conscripts.
There are perhaps a dozen men posted in the area around Ironhall keeping a lookout. Any of the men in the current force could advise Hrothgar on local terrain.
The closest area that matches this description is the valley the party did battle in in Brayers.
There are sheep roads north along the Sea of Songs that cross bridges but it’d likely be difficult to goad Shedlund’s forces north away from Ironhall.
The East Ironway. It’s likely Shedlund’s forces will be moving south until they hit this road, then moving west to Ironhall, just as the party did.
There are many places like this in the Greatwood as you get closer to the Greyhorn Mountains. More than a few miles away from the Greyhorn and the area becomes flat until you reach Brayers.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, most of the peasants want to get into the keep.
The idea of laying an ambush on the East Ironway certainly appeals. As for getting into the keep, all in good time, but the idea is to give the enemy a bloody nose first - then he’ll be less eager to storm the keep, and all the quicker to give up a siege if it comes to that.
Hrothgar grins at Cyrus: “Now I’ve a new name ready-made if ever I have to do off the beard. If I quit now with a fight like we’ve got comin’, I’d never hear the end of it nor stop wondering who’d have won. Let’s put off arguin’ what I’m worth till the job’s done.”
What’s the best information we have on the enemy forces, as to number and kind?
You can only speculate. Shedlund is sure to have many more conscripts than Ironhall, that much is certain. Perhaps up to three times as many. Based on what the party saw during their stay in the area their men-at-arms aren’t as well-equipped as Ironhall’s; they’re unarmored. What amount of cavalry they’ll be able to field is an unknown.
Cyrus, to Harrow - “Who’ll be leading these men? I haven’t seen too many noble warrior-types in Ironhall’s employ. Will it be you? Keiran?”
“Ironhall doesn’t have many knights these days. It will fall to me, Keiron and you Faramonds.”
A soldier comes riding into town calling for Sir Harrow. He addresses the knight and the party, sliding out of his mount’s saddle and saluting. “Dark-skinned men moving west along the Ironway, coming right for us, m’lord. I be thinking they’re Arcadians, sir. Mebbie two hundred of ‘em an’ all on foot.”
Sir Harrow is alarmed. “Has Shedlund hired mercenaries?” He asks to no one in particular. “Did you see anyone else?”
“No, m’lord. We let ‘em pass us before ridin’ 'round and we’re pretty sure they’re alone.”
“Why would she do that?” He looks to the party. “Do we lay an ambush or ride out to meet them?”
“They weren’t travelling with Shedlund’s army. If they’re mercenaries, I don’t think they’re working for the Baroness.”
Cyus, to Keiran - “Are you well enough to ride? We need to learn the intent of the Arcadian group, but we can’t risk the army. The others can plan Ironhall’s defense while you and I ride to meet these strangers.”
Assuming Keiran and Ironhall agree, Cyrus will ride to intercept the group of Arcadians. Cyrus’ plan is to have Keiran position far away from the group, but within sight while Cyrus questions them. If the group is hostile to Cyrus, Keiran will ride back to Ironhall to warn the others.
“If you’ll pardon the suggestion, my lord, perhaps we can hire them right out from under Shedlund.” Keiron leans closer to Lord Ironhall and whispers. “What could we offer, if their loyalties are not set in stone?”
“If we ride out to meet them, considering it isn’t the Shedlund force, we may find that Shedlund’s actual troops are circling around our own at the same time. We should commit as little manpower to that force as possible until we know their intent.”
“I’m well enough to ride, at least. I’ll accompany you, if Lord Ironhall approves. If we can manage to swing those Arcadians to our side, it would be a boon to our hopes in this conflict. I can find out what we may need to turn their loyalties, and speak for my lord if necessary.”
• Keiron will ride with Cyrus to meet the Arcadians. He’ll attempt to determine if they have joined forces with Shedlund, and if so, what their price may be to have them switch sides.
• If they aren’t willing to shift their loyalties, Keiron will try to assess their combat potential and threat to Ironhall. Keiron will not ride back to Ironhall unless the threat is imminent and dire, otherwise he’ll circle around behind the Arcadians until they camp for the night.
I say ride to meet them. If they are in the employ of Shedlund, it’d be odd that they’d be all footsoldiers. Unless Shedlund doesn’t know that Ironhall is on to her yet, but I doubt that. And the Arcadians aren’t stupid, and anyone who knows anything about battle would not take a force of merely 200 footmen into enemy territory, so the Arcadians would know what they are doing is likely suicide. And the Arcadians aren’t really the type to sacrifice themselves for some greater good.
No, there’s either something else afoot, or the Arcadians are not working for Shedlund. Regardless, they’d be a great addition to our forces if we can swing it.
You aren’t going out there without me. I’ve had many dealings with Arcadians in the past, and can very roughly speak their language. At least I should be able to pick up on any subtleties in their mannerisms should they belie their reasons for being here.
“If you will go young-brother, then I shall accompany the reconnaissance party. It has been a long time since I’ve seen an Arcadian. Don’t worry. I shall leave all the talking to you.”
*The party mounts up and begins heading east along the East Ironway. By now Keiron has had his wounds bandaged and his beard and hair washed and trimmed and he has been given a suit of fine traveling clothes complete with supple leather boots and gloves and an Ironhall tabard. The recently-returned knight rides a brown heavy dirt provided for him from among the Ironhall stables.
The party, accompanied by one of the light cavalry groups, rides into the setting Sun for about two hours before they stop at the sound of an approaching group. They arrange themselves on the road, ready to ride back and warn Ironhall should this force reveal themselves as hostile.*
Slowly the expected force comes into view in the distance, nearing closer and closer at a brisk pace. Two of their number are mounted and ride at their head. They see the party and continue their approach, not in any sort of formation. Except for their mounted leader, who rides to meet the players and Harrow, they all stop about thirty yards from the party. There are indeed approximately two hundred of them.
The Arcadians all have dark skin ranging from a caramel to blackest ebony. They are all armored in overlapping bands of boiled leather and the majority of them carry javelins at rest against their shoulders, with a good number among them bearing a second slung across their backs. They all carry secondary weapons such as daggers and short swords at their belts. At closer inspection it is clear that there are women interspersed among their group, armed and armored like their fellows.
“Identify yourself! This is Ironhall land!” Announces Sir Harrow.
The man who’s rode ahead to meet the party is middle-aged and wrapped in a dark red shawl. His black beard is full of beadwork and his crown is shaved bald. He carries a khopesh with a heavy, colorful tassel on its handle in his lap. He appraises the party briefly before opening his mouth to speak. When he does, it is with a heavy Arcadian accent and a drawling, snake-like voice. “I am Opek and these are my men.” He turns in his saddle to gesture with a sweeping hand to the group arrayed behind him. As he turns his head he reveals a black tattoo of a canine in profile on the side of his face.
“These men are Laughing Dogs.” Cutter whispers to the party. “Arcadian pirates.”
“Who among you represent Ironhall?”
“I do.” Answers Harrow.
“We come from Ibene.” He pauses between each syllable as he talks. “Ibene consider debts repaid and… misunderstandings forgotten if come. So here we are.”
“Those cowards! They send us pirate wretches rather than risk their own men?” Says Sir Harrow to Keiron.
“I have three condition.” Opek holds up the thumb and index and middle fingers of his left hand to indicate the amount; his other fingers of that same hand have been cut off at the middle knuckle. “One: We are not fodder. Use us as such and we will quit zhe field.”
Harrow interrupts. “YOU’RE giving US conditions?”
Opek continues calmly, unfazed. “Two: Any enemy we capture alive are our rightful spoil… zhat include zheir horse. We have… lost profit to recoup. Zhree:” He snaps the fingers on his left hand back to the group and the second mounted figure rides forward; it is a young woman, armed and armored. “Zhis is my daughter Loshessa. You take her to your castle. If me and my men dead you vouchsafe her return to Arcadia.”
“Who’s he?” It’s Choke and he’s pointing into the group. There is a terrified-looking young Bunic man, stripped naked and bound at the hands and led by a lead carried by an Arcadian. He is gagged and by the looks of his bare feet he is suffering from frostbite from marching along the frozen ground.
Opek doesn’t visibly react to the question. “Rat was farmboy caught steal from camp. At first I only to take fingers…” Their prisoner is indeed missing all of his fingers; cut off in a similar manner as Opek’s two missing digits. "… but then he insult Crescent Kingdom. Now he will witness its glory firsthand."Choke and Harrow look somewhat horrified. Cutter is pitiless.
Opek spits into his hand before extending his arm to Harrow. “We have deal?” Saliva drips from his long, thin and bandaged fingers. When there is no immediate reaction he continues. “You no want us we return to Ibene.” His face shows his indifference. Harrow looks to the party.
“Never trust an Arcadian.” Warns Cutter to the party.
“For once I’m going to have to agree with our smelly friend.” Says Choke.
“Notice anyone familiar?” Cyrus mocks Henry.
More seriously, Cyrus continues. “They’re willing to fight for free. I don’t see how we could say no. They’ll consider their debt to Ironhall repaid, regardless.”
Two hundred javelineer-skirmishers? They could make a nasty mess of anyone too slow to catch them for hand-to-hand, for a start. And they’ve the gear to make twice their number of conscripts very unhappy into the bargain.