Ragnar was currently sitting on a crate of rivets outside the city walls within the confines of his siege perimeter.
He was conducting a "quality assurance check" on breakfast, which consisted of hardtack soaked in bacon grease and a tin cup of weak ale.
He ate the same "fuel" as his employees and refused to have executive catering while in the field. As such, he was sitting next to General Bjorn, a Sergeant from the Engineering Corps, and a fresh-faced recruit from East Anglia.
The rhythmic thud-whoosh of the "Chemical Lobbers" (modified mangonels) echoed across the field as they continuously bombarded the city walls with ceramic pots of the "Spicy Mix"; one might think a dragon had taken up residence in the Midlands if they were not accustomed to such industrial thermal application.
Though the skies above were grey and drizzling, and the damp English wind was filled with the scent of wet wool, it was by no means a natural storm.
