The dragon reaches for a tipple

In the cold, dripping fog of pre dawn, Major General Karl von Drednoz considers his army’s route. The objective is only a day’s march away in normal conditions. The locals, however, tell him that a large, allied force has been assembling and drilling near Tipple-Bruder to oppose his troops. Furthermore, the open lands which would normally favor his reputed superiority in mounted troops are boggy slush.

The general muses over these reports, other recent intelligence, and the content of his private interview with King Maurice. Furthermore, rumors that his rival has defeated the Frankszonians put pressure on him to also have a great success to report. Thankfully, he thinks of the pretty ... ah, make that skilled ... poet in his entourage who may be able to make anything sound like a great victory. The lad is gifted with words. In spite of the rumors that he’d like to bugger (as in lead to destruction) half the recruits in his force, v. Drednoz is quite aware of the expense in equipping and drilling soldiers ... which expense the Stagonian king, with typical vileness, would probably redeem from v. Drednoz’s resources.

It is time to act. The general nods to an aide and the various Brigadiers are assembled into the staff tent.

“Gentlemen,” the general begins, “today we will probably fight against a fairly uncoordinated force. Unfortunately, however, they will probably still have the advantage. Indeed, I expect that we will be ambushed.”
A dismayed muttering and gasps run through the assembled officers, but the general continues. “We cannot advance in the open terrain. Neither our guns nor our horses could advance the few miles to Tipple-Bruder in the low land muck. Thus we are forced to use the thankfully good road that runs on the foot hills of these mountains. Not only is the area densely wooded, but we will have steep drop offs to our left and equally steep ramparts on our right. The road must cross several deep creek beds as the mountain streams drop to the river .... But the shelf on which the road itself lies is fairly broad.
“So my plan is that we will move in bounds from clearing to clearing with the Icelauf Jagers leading, supported by the Moliere Dragoons. The Brigade Von Kroll will be our first line. Heinrich, when contact is made, be sure to lead your forces to incline uphill. Let the Grenadiers skirmish against any ambuscade on those wooded cliffs. The Brigade Openkopf should stay behind the Brigade Von Kroll until ordered to engage.
“I suspect that this will lead to the battle swinging uphill a little. If this happens, Openkopf will advance behind v. Kroll, but incline to the left and push back any forces hiding below the crest of the shelf.
“Brigadier Yves d'Amours will command at the point. Your task is to keep the column advancing towards Tipple-Bruder. I will keep the cuirassiers, however, under my personal command.”
D’Amours asks, “Which flank do you want the Blut Jaegers and the Pfeiffer Dragoons to take?”
“I’m sending detachments of them with special tasks,” v. Drednoz responds. “So the rest will be brigaded with the Icelauf Jaegers and the Moliere Dragoons under your command.”
General v. Drednoz pauses a moment. “Gentlemen, we’ve had a long, soggy slog to get here. There was no rain yesterday, but even though the road will be good; there will be a tendency to straggle. I’d rather we move slowly and keep together. If we don’t get to Tipple Bruder today, but are still a compact and coordinated force, we should have a significant advantage when we do encounter the foe.”
He picks up his glass, and the assemble officers struggle their feet. “Gentlemen! The King!”
They drink and smash (or rather throw into the muck at their feet) their glasses. One junior staff officer shouts, “Stagger them, Stagonia!” At which some of the older officers can be seen wincing as the force jumbles out into the mist.