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Completed [LP] Enlist in the Royal Dragoons! Codex plays Sabres of Infinity
- Thread starter Lithium Flower
- Start date
Since we're dumb as a brick, I'd say that trying to learn anything is doomed from the start. So more soldiering: 2!
2 it says we can improve our mind! 22222222222222222222222
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Hone my body and mind at the Training Grounds.
The next day, you begin visiting the training grounds outside the town walls. The first week is fruitfully spent practicing your sabre and carbine drill until you are practically the spitting image of the illustrations in your manual.
Over the next few months, you hone your practical skills, driving Thunderer through rigorous exercises, like cutting down targets with your sabre whilst atop the saddle. When not ahorse, you practice with your carbine until you can hit the target at fifty paces with your eyes closed.
Every night, you return to your quarters with your arms sore and your throat raw from the stink of powder. It is not a comfortable year by any means, but your skills improve dramatically. In addition, your diligence in maintaining your drill has not been ignored. You often overhear sergeants haranguing their men, pointing in your direction and citing you as an example of the compleat soldier, a distinction which you are proud to have.
-
Little more than a year after your promotion, you report to the Duke, only to be informed of some rather interesting news:
"I am afraid," the Duke says, "that I shall not be seeing too much more of you in future." His face is a mask of some slight regret, but no sadness.
The Duke explains that thanks to the Royal Dragoon Regiment's distinguished service, including (as the Duke is none too reluctant to mention) your own, Grenadier Square has decided to increase each squadron's size from five to six troops each.
"This, of course, means that your squadron now has an open field command position. As the senior officer without a command currently serving under Captain Montez, the honour will naturally be yours."
You are to have your own command again!
-
It is the work of a few minutes to confirm your new assignment with the clerks and notaries. You are given reciepts and told to collect the equipment required for the command of forty men and horses. A great stack heap of schedules, regulations and drillbooks are placed in your arms. You are told that the first of your men are not to arrive from Tierra for another two weeks. You have until then to ready yourself.
Finally, the Duke offers his own parting gift.
"I am sure that you would not wish to take command over an entire unit of strangers. Thus, I've spoken with Major Hunter and reassigned your old patrol from the outpost over the River Kharan. They will form the nucleus of your new command, and they should arrive within the next three days."
-
Sure enough, one evening, two days later, Hernandes, now wearing the three crowned chevrons of a Staff Sergeant, presents himself before you in your quarters, with your men following close behind. As such, you formally recognize them as the first members of sixth troop, third squadron, Royal Dragoon Regiment.
With all this done Hernandes gives you a firm handshake and a slight smirk.
"Here we are, all together again. Fine thing, isn't it?"
You can't quite tell if he is being sarcastic or not.
Some desultory conversation breaks out, but the men, obviously uncomfortable inside an officer's rooms, take their leave after a few minutes.
-
Two weeks later, a ship arrives with the first dozen of your men.
They are likely the worst soldiers you have ever seen.
The first inspection proves that however much appreciation Grenadier Square might show for your efforts, it is not enough to send you proper soldiers. You find their carbines to be in abhorrent condition, their sabres rust-spotted, their uniforms slovenly and their ability to follow even the most rudimentary drill sequences to be all but non-existent.
Worst of all, when you receive their files, you note that the majority of them carry a stamped "C" next to the names: your new men are, for the most part, conscripts, usually criminals given the choice of the King's dam or the gallows.
-
When you tell your regimental commander of your situation, Cunaris is symathetic, but far from surprised.
"I'm afraid you'll get no better recruits for the rest of your men," he warns you over a glass of Kentauri Whisky. "When war broke out, all the best men, like yourself, volunteered. The financiers were thrown into panic by old King Edmund's death; they began hoarding their coin instead of spending it and those who counted on their custom suffered for it. That meant a great host of honest, hardworking folk took up the King's arms to feed their families. Now those good men are dead or already in service. We've naught but the women, the children and the dregs of society left and even the best of that scum is being skimmed off by the admiralty. I am afraid this is all we've got left my boy."
The Duke puts a great bear-like hand on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in a steady gaze. "A warning, lad. These rats won't dare raise a hand against you in Noringia, not with a thousand, armed honest men around them; but the second you lose sight of the walls, they may turn on you. I'm keeping your troop in reserve until an emergency arises. Use that time to make sure that your men will not disgrace the King's colours when they are finally put to the touch."
Cunaris swills around his glass for a moment. Perhaps he thinks his words have been too harsh. "You've a good lot of men from your last command, use them."
With that last piece of advice given, the two of you down your drinks. His Grace dismisses you with a simple, "Good luck."
-
It takes another month for the rest of your men to arrive and another week on top of that to get them mounted and properly billeted. With Captain Montez and the rest of your squadron on detached duty with the Duke of Wulfram's army, you effectively have free rein to put your new command into fighting trim.
Which is a fine thing, as drastic measures are quite obviously needed.
All of your new men are as bad as the first batch. Discipline is deplorable, the men's weapons and saddlery are in a frightful state and perhaps worst of all, they all seem to resent you as nothing more than a lordling like the ones back home. You doubt that any would follow your orders under pressure.
You know full well that the first thing you must do is appoint new Corporals and Sergeants to command the individual six-man patrols which constitute your unit. While Staff Sergeant Hernandes will return to his previous post as your senior non-com, the other slots must be filled.
How do you appoint your new non-coms?
1) I pick the biggest and most dangerous-looking men.
2) I pick those who seem the most literate and well-spoken.
3) I pick the most popular men.
4) I pick the men from my old patrol
(Please review the unit information below. You might notice some interesting changes.)
The next day, you begin visiting the training grounds outside the town walls. The first week is fruitfully spent practicing your sabre and carbine drill until you are practically the spitting image of the illustrations in your manual.
Over the next few months, you hone your practical skills, driving Thunderer through rigorous exercises, like cutting down targets with your sabre whilst atop the saddle. When not ahorse, you practice with your carbine until you can hit the target at fifty paces with your eyes closed.
Every night, you return to your quarters with your arms sore and your throat raw from the stink of powder. It is not a comfortable year by any means, but your skills improve dramatically. In addition, your diligence in maintaining your drill has not been ignored. You often overhear sergeants haranguing their men, pointing in your direction and citing you as an example of the compleat soldier, a distinction which you are proud to have.
-
Little more than a year after your promotion, you report to the Duke, only to be informed of some rather interesting news:
"I am afraid," the Duke says, "that I shall not be seeing too much more of you in future." His face is a mask of some slight regret, but no sadness.
The Duke explains that thanks to the Royal Dragoon Regiment's distinguished service, including (as the Duke is none too reluctant to mention) your own, Grenadier Square has decided to increase each squadron's size from five to six troops each.
"This, of course, means that your squadron now has an open field command position. As the senior officer without a command currently serving under Captain Montez, the honour will naturally be yours."
You are to have your own command again!
-
It is the work of a few minutes to confirm your new assignment with the clerks and notaries. You are given reciepts and told to collect the equipment required for the command of forty men and horses. A great stack heap of schedules, regulations and drillbooks are placed in your arms. You are told that the first of your men are not to arrive from Tierra for another two weeks. You have until then to ready yourself.
Finally, the Duke offers his own parting gift.
"I am sure that you would not wish to take command over an entire unit of strangers. Thus, I've spoken with Major Hunter and reassigned your old patrol from the outpost over the River Kharan. They will form the nucleus of your new command, and they should arrive within the next three days."
-
Sure enough, one evening, two days later, Hernandes, now wearing the three crowned chevrons of a Staff Sergeant, presents himself before you in your quarters, with your men following close behind. As such, you formally recognize them as the first members of sixth troop, third squadron, Royal Dragoon Regiment.
With all this done Hernandes gives you a firm handshake and a slight smirk.
"Here we are, all together again. Fine thing, isn't it?"
You can't quite tell if he is being sarcastic or not.
Some desultory conversation breaks out, but the men, obviously uncomfortable inside an officer's rooms, take their leave after a few minutes.
-
Two weeks later, a ship arrives with the first dozen of your men.
They are likely the worst soldiers you have ever seen.
The first inspection proves that however much appreciation Grenadier Square might show for your efforts, it is not enough to send you proper soldiers. You find their carbines to be in abhorrent condition, their sabres rust-spotted, their uniforms slovenly and their ability to follow even the most rudimentary drill sequences to be all but non-existent.
Worst of all, when you receive their files, you note that the majority of them carry a stamped "C" next to the names: your new men are, for the most part, conscripts, usually criminals given the choice of the King's dam or the gallows.
-
When you tell your regimental commander of your situation, Cunaris is symathetic, but far from surprised.
"I'm afraid you'll get no better recruits for the rest of your men," he warns you over a glass of Kentauri Whisky. "When war broke out, all the best men, like yourself, volunteered. The financiers were thrown into panic by old King Edmund's death; they began hoarding their coin instead of spending it and those who counted on their custom suffered for it. That meant a great host of honest, hardworking folk took up the King's arms to feed their families. Now those good men are dead or already in service. We've naught but the women, the children and the dregs of society left and even the best of that scum is being skimmed off by the admiralty. I am afraid this is all we've got left my boy."
The Duke puts a great bear-like hand on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in a steady gaze. "A warning, lad. These rats won't dare raise a hand against you in Noringia, not with a thousand, armed honest men around them; but the second you lose sight of the walls, they may turn on you. I'm keeping your troop in reserve until an emergency arises. Use that time to make sure that your men will not disgrace the King's colours when they are finally put to the touch."
Cunaris swills around his glass for a moment. Perhaps he thinks his words have been too harsh. "You've a good lot of men from your last command, use them."
With that last piece of advice given, the two of you down your drinks. His Grace dismisses you with a simple, "Good luck."
-
It takes another month for the rest of your men to arrive and another week on top of that to get them mounted and properly billeted. With Captain Montez and the rest of your squadron on detached duty with the Duke of Wulfram's army, you effectively have free rein to put your new command into fighting trim.
Which is a fine thing, as drastic measures are quite obviously needed.
All of your new men are as bad as the first batch. Discipline is deplorable, the men's weapons and saddlery are in a frightful state and perhaps worst of all, they all seem to resent you as nothing more than a lordling like the ones back home. You doubt that any would follow your orders under pressure.
You know full well that the first thing you must do is appoint new Corporals and Sergeants to command the individual six-man patrols which constitute your unit. While Staff Sergeant Hernandes will return to his previous post as your senior non-com, the other slots must be filled.
How do you appoint your new non-coms?
1) I pick the biggest and most dangerous-looking men.
2) I pick those who seem the most literate and well-spoken.
3) I pick the most popular men.
4) I pick the men from my old patrol
(Please review the unit information below. You might notice some interesting changes.)
As of the Spring of the 604th year of the Old Imperial Era
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 16
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 205
Income: 10
Soldiering: 74%
(Also, we are officially a killing machine.)
Charisma: 40%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 44%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 76% Cynicism: 24%
Ruthlessness: 41% Mercy: 59%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 16
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 205
Income: 10
Soldiering: 74%
(Also, we are officially a killing machine.)
Charisma: 40%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 44%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 76% Cynicism: 24%
Ruthlessness: 41% Mercy: 59%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sixth Troop, Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff- Sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 35%
Morale: 5%
Loyalty: 10%
Senior NCO: Staff- Sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 35%
Morale: 5%
Loyalty: 10%
4
4.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
You promote the Dragoons from your last command to non-commissioned rank. While the new men grumble at first, the battle-hardened veterans soon assert their dominance with stories of your previous actions, advice given by long years of experience and a judicious application of the riding crop.
The men begin to warm up to their non-coms. Somehow, your new command seems less of a desperate case than it was just a few days before.
-
With the non-coms appointed, you can finally set to the work of turning your unit of thieves, rogues, gutter rats and beggars into a proper fighting force.
As it stands, the men are reasonably disciplined, dispirited, and detest you.
What do you work on first?
"Staff Sergeant Hernandes, what's your advice?"
"Well sir," your bookish sergeant replies, "what the men need first is d-discipline. If we were to address anything else first, they would i-immediately fly apart like rabble. Make them into men capable of following orders first. They will be r-resentful and dispirited, perhaps, but we can settle the minor issues later."
1) The men need discipline above all else. I drill them until they faint!
2) I have them clean their equipment. If they look like proper soldiers, they will feel like proper soldiers!
3) Perhaps a light hand is what they need. I give them light duties for a few months.
Oh, and our reputation increased by 5 points since last choice. Sorry for omitting it.
The men begin to warm up to their non-coms. Somehow, your new command seems less of a desperate case than it was just a few days before.
-
With the non-coms appointed, you can finally set to the work of turning your unit of thieves, rogues, gutter rats and beggars into a proper fighting force.
As it stands, the men are reasonably disciplined, dispirited, and detest you.
What do you work on first?
"Staff Sergeant Hernandes, what's your advice?"
"Well sir," your bookish sergeant replies, "what the men need first is d-discipline. If we were to address anything else first, they would i-immediately fly apart like rabble. Make them into men capable of following orders first. They will be r-resentful and dispirited, perhaps, but we can settle the minor issues later."
1) The men need discipline above all else. I drill them until they faint!
2) I have them clean their equipment. If they look like proper soldiers, they will feel like proper soldiers!
3) Perhaps a light hand is what they need. I give them light duties for a few months.
Oh, and our reputation increased by 5 points since last choice. Sorry for omitting it.
As of the Autumn of the 604th year of the Old Imperial Era
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 16
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 265
Income: 10
Soldiering: 74%
Charisma: 40%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 49%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 76% Cynicism: 24%
Ruthlessness: 41% Mercy: 59%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 16
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 265
Income: 10
Soldiering: 74%
Charisma: 40%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 49%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 76% Cynicism: 24%
Ruthlessness: 41% Mercy: 59%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sixth Troop, Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff- Sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 40%
Morale: 10%
Loyalty: 15%
Senior NCO: Staff- Sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 40%
Morale: 10%
Loyalty: 15%
I don't think drilling our men into the ground is going to make them loyal or increase their moral. I'd say 2.
Cleaning and maintaining kit is part of discipline and we do need to do it anyways so 2.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
You make sure your men take especial care with their weapons and equipment. You can tell that it is hard going for most of them; after all, few have ever owned anything as fine or well-made as the ill-fitting uniforms which Grenadier Square has issued them. It takes them some getting used to, but over the next few months, the condition of your men's kit improves dramatically. Where there was rust and grime there is now only the shining metalwork and leather of a unit in good order.
The troop seems to take well to their improved material circumstances. Their more regular-looking equipment has made them walk with a swagger and a pride in being the King's soldiers which they had not possessed before. Unfortunately, they have also directed their resentment towards your regular demands for inspections, equipment drills and your draconian enforcement of uniform regulations.
-
Months pass, and the falling leaves and cold rains herald the beginning of the cold season. Like the rest of the enlisted men held in the town, your Dragoons are to be moved to winter quarters inside the city walls, as maintained and paid for by the army. As a courtesy, you are allowed to inspect them beforehand.
They are, in a phrase, the worst lodgings you have ever seen.
The floorboards are rotting, the thin and lumpy beds are packed with insects, termites infest the timbers, there is no chimney and the only windows open downwind of an exposed latrine pit. You have no doubt that should your men be forced to lodge here, they will be far from pleased.
You decide that:
1) These are the lodgings provided, my men shall have to bear with it.
2) Surely I can intercede on my men's behalf and find some better quarters for them!
3) If the army refuses to house my men properly, I shall have to rent better for them myself.
The troop seems to take well to their improved material circumstances. Their more regular-looking equipment has made them walk with a swagger and a pride in being the King's soldiers which they had not possessed before. Unfortunately, they have also directed their resentment towards your regular demands for inspections, equipment drills and your draconian enforcement of uniform regulations.
-
Months pass, and the falling leaves and cold rains herald the beginning of the cold season. Like the rest of the enlisted men held in the town, your Dragoons are to be moved to winter quarters inside the city walls, as maintained and paid for by the army. As a courtesy, you are allowed to inspect them beforehand.
They are, in a phrase, the worst lodgings you have ever seen.
The floorboards are rotting, the thin and lumpy beds are packed with insects, termites infest the timbers, there is no chimney and the only windows open downwind of an exposed latrine pit. You have no doubt that should your men be forced to lodge here, they will be far from pleased.
You decide that:
1) These are the lodgings provided, my men shall have to bear with it.
2) Surely I can intercede on my men's behalf and find some better quarters for them!
3) If the army refuses to house my men properly, I shall have to rent better for them myself.
As of the Autumn of the 604th year of the Old Imperial Era
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 16
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 265
Income: 10
Soldiering: 74%
Charisma: 40%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 49%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 76% Cynicism: 24%
Ruthlessness: 41% Mercy: 59%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 16
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 265
Income: 10
Soldiering: 74%
Charisma: 40%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 49%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 76% Cynicism: 24%
Ruthlessness: 41% Mercy: 59%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sixth Troop, Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff- Sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 40%
Morale: 20%
Loyalty: 10%
Senior NCO: Staff- Sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 40%
Morale: 20%
Loyalty: 10%
Last edited:
We've lost some loyalty. But I don't think it was avoidable.
I'd say 2>3
I'd say 2>3
2 > 3
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