Siege of Parma
The imperial forces of Frederick II, encamped outside Parma, are preparing for a potential counterattack from the defiant city. The Imperial Captain surveys the exhausted troops, while a scribe record
Setting
The outskirts of Parma, just beyond the city walls, where Frederick II's imperial forces have established their siege camp. The ground is trampled and muddy from weeks of encampment, with makeshift tents and wooden barricades scattered across the landscape. Smoke rises from campfires, mingling with the morning mist.
Characters
Imperial Captain
primary
A tall, broad-shouldered man in his late 40s with a weathered face marked by scars and a short, well-groomed beard streaked with gray. His piercing dark eyes are framed by deep-set wrinkles from years of squinting at battlefields. His hands are calloused and grip his sword hilt with practiced ease.
Scribe
secondary
A thin, middle-aged man with a slightly hunched posture from hours of writing. His face is gaunt with dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers are stained with ink. His hair is cropped short in the clerical style, with streaks of gray showing at the temples.
Archer
secondary
A wiry man in his late twenties with sunken cheeks and a permanent squint from years of bow practice. His hands are calloused, and a fresh scar runs across his left forearm. His dark hair is cropped short under a worn leather cap.
Camp Cook
background
A gaunt man in his late thirties with sunken cheeks and calloused hands, his frame showing signs of prolonged malnutrition. His dark hair is matted with sweat and grease, and his hollow eyes frequently dart toward the city walls.
Dialog
Imperial Captain
By Pluto's beard! Another day watching these walls mock us while our stores dwindle? Tell me, scribe, how many more sunrises before our bellies gnaw our spines?
Scribe
The grain... if the men ration as ordered... perhaps three days, Dominus.
Archer
Three days? My bowstring'll snap from hunger before then. These Parma dogs eat better behind their walls than we do in camp.
Imperial Captain
Silence, dog! You'll eat when we breach those gates or not at all. Scribe—send word to the sappers. I want their tunnels under the east tower by nightfall.
Scribe
But the earthworks... the ground still reeks of last week's rains. The men say—
Imperial Captain
The men will do as ordered or face the whip! Let them remember who holds their oath—and their pay.
Archer
Pay? What pay? Last silver I saw went to the whores in Cremona.